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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30064995">Long Way Home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistantStorm/pseuds/DistantStorm'>DistantStorm</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Palpatine's Contingency Plans, Protective Team, Rescue Missions, Sight (Star Wars), Sith Alchemy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:54:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>21,686</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30064995</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistantStorm/pseuds/DistantStorm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In a desperate move against a changed Grand Admiral Thrawn, Commander Hammerly absconds from the Seventh Fleet with his most valuable prisoner and requests help from a presumed ally. The Ascendancy cannot offer ships or weapons, but it can offer Eli Vanto.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Eli Vanto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>88</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>If you read <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27314083/chapters/67988080">this Thrantovember prompt</a>, this is the fic I have planned from that concept. I've made some changes so that is not a true prologue, but the idea is mostly unchanged. I can't wait to share it with you!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Captain Eli’van’to stood before the comms console on the bridge of the CDF Warship <em>Steadfast,</em> his thumb and index fingers stroking his chin thoughtfully. His eyes were hard, focused on the message delivered in broken Sy Bisti and then Basic. It had already repeated several times, and he had translated it in real time for the woman beside him. Admiral Ar’alani’s arms were crossed in front of her as if they could be a physical barrier. Whether that barrier was to protect others from her reaction or her emotions from escaping, Eli couldn’t tell. He supposed that at this point, it didn’t really matter.</p><p>“They encroach upon the Unknown Regions more and more with each passing day,” Ar’alani said softly. “They run.”</p><p>
“Yes,” He agreed, a little bitter. “They’ve lost the war.”</p><p>“Thrawn charted hyperlanes for their emperor. Ones that lead away from Chiss worlds, but viable ones all the same. In their state,” She looked at the desperate pale blue projection of Imperial Commander Mina Hammerly, “They will be easy prey for our enemies.” She cast her gaze to the side, her glowing red eyes focusing on him. “Or perhaps they will nurse their wounds and come to prey upon us instead.”</p><p>He paused the message. “Hammerly said that he had intended to defect.”</p><p>“He is compromised,” She said, reading between the lines and seeing what her captain did not say. “We know now what the Emperor was.” She exhaled, and her long fingers curled over his shoulder. The firm grip did not line up with the softer look in her eyes. “Even so, we cannot spare the resources to retrieve him.”</p><p>“Send me alone.”</p><p>“You are an enemy to both the Empire and the New Republic,” Ar’alani intoned sternly, relinquishing her grip on him. “You are also our best chance at unraveling the secrets of the Navigators. It would be foolish to allow you to go.”</p><p>“It would be foolish to allow Thrawn and his forces to be collapsed into prey for our enemies. We cannot afford for him—compromised or not—to be used as a weapon against us.”</p><p>“And you believe you alone will be able to stop him?”</p><p>He sighed and turned from the recording. “If it comes to that, yes.” He said somberly. “If there’s nothing left to save.”</p><p>After a moment of studying him, Ar’alani inclined her head in acknowledgement of his resolve. Her expression was studiously neutral as she spoke, “I will hear them out, Captain Eli’van’to. Make the arrangements.”</p><p>-/</p><p>The status indicator lights flickered green, and the star lines streaked to a stop. Commander Mina Hammerly of the defeated Galactic Empire released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. There was nothing but the distant prickles of light from distant stars. Better than an enemy shooting at them, she supposed. She shuddered against her will. This was a huge risk. And whether that risk would pay off or not, she wasn’t yet sure.</p><p>“Are we here?”</p><p>“We are,” She said, turning to face the person leaning against the frame of the open hatch. Her voice crackled a little from lack of use. The young man with her was talkative enough, but Hammerly hadn’t been feeling particularly conversational over the course of their journey.</p><p>“You should clean up,” He said, giving her a smile that looked about as wary as she felt. “It’ll make you feel better.”</p><p>The kid was weird, but kind. It was still weird to be alone with him. The number of times he had known her thoughts or feelings before she could express them reminded her of her commanding—her <em>former</em> commanding officer. That part of it hadn’t gotten any easier to think about. Though she’d take Thrawn’s ability to predict what people were thinking with its roots in logic over the Jedi and his ability to use the Force. </p><p>It was nothing against him personally, though. She trusted Ezra Bridger. He was here, after all. He could’ve overpowered her and left her behind any number of times. Hell, she wouldn’t have blamed him. After what Thrawn did to him, he didn’t really owe him—any of them, really—anything.</p><p>But Thrawn had a way of inspiring loyalty in people, of making them believe in him. She had learned serving under him that if anyone could make the impossible possible, it was Grand Admiral Mitth’raw’nuruodo.</p><p>She slinked through the tiny, cramped freighter and locked herself into the even tinier standing refresher. It was a luxury that they even had one, and even more so that it wasn’t sonic. A life in the military made freshening up a business-like affair, to the point and without fanfare, but she used the two minutes she got under the cool spray to go through the motions while her mind wandered by lightyears.</p><p>She didn’t take time for herself often. Her thoughts circled constantly to their next steps, her unofficial but vital mission, the contingencies she had to have, and landed squarely on her concerns. Chief among them: That if this doesn’t work, she isn’t sure she can trust the New Republic to save her comrades. Not after all the hate and anger she’s seen. Not after all that has been done to the Rebellion. Bridger shared her fears in that area as well.</p><p>He, like Hammerly, had been part of the small group of trusted crew aboard the <em>Chimaera</em> to be brought into the fold and briefed on Thrawn’s original objective. His true objective. The one that he’d strayed from, rebuilding his decimated fleet to partake in the decaying Empire’s absurd goals.</p><p>Bridger said that something had frightened him, and that fear made people do strange and terrible things. Hammerly had always seen her commanding officer as calm and fearless. There had been only one occasion in over a decade of serving under him that she could recall fear in his eyes, and that had been easily the most terrifying thing she imagined a person could see, much less witness first hand.</p><p>The smattering of water over her head trickled to a stop. She shuddered, reaching behind her head to wring out her hair. Ultimately, what happened with Thrawn was out of her hands. There wasn’t a single person in the New Republic or any of the tattered remnants of the Empire that would be able to do that.</p><p>That was why they were here, she thought to herself as she dressed. She might not know Thrawn very well, but she knew someone who knew him better than anyone else ever had. Someone who had been ingrained in his life for years. Someone whom Thrawn had clearly recognized as a kindred spirit in their own way.</p><p>She returned to the cockpit to see a sleek black warship looming in front of her. The comms crackled, spitting static. “Power down the ship, ” Came a clipped, heavily-accented voice speaking Sy Bisti. “We will pull you in.”</p><p>“You’re sure about this?” Bridger said, even as he began powering down the navigation and shields, leaving only the lowest setting of life support available to them.</p><p>“Well," She said, trying to force lightheartedness into her voice, "If we try to run now, they’ll blow us up for sure.” The Jedi looked at her in concern, but she shrugged. “It’s the truth.”</p><p>-/</p><p>Eli remained stern and steady at the admiral’s side when they greeted their guests, but it was a very near thing. Hammerly looked ashen and thin, sickly in a way that suggested she had been extremely stressed over a long period of time. It made his heart kick wildly and his stomach knot.</p><p>What in the hell was going on over there? Hammerly had been in Thrawn's inner circle. After himself, she had known him the longest of anyone on the <em>Chimaera’s </em>bridge.</p><p>He acted as translator for them, though both spoke Sy Bisti to an extent. Ar'alani was as intimidating as she ever was, but it was clear that Hammerly was too exhausted to lie. The younger man with her, the Jedi, was expressive but difficult to gauge, so he left that to Ar'alani and her superior vision. </p><p>"I sense some sort of manipulation," The Jedi, Ezra Bridger, explained. "The Emperor was powerful, and I know from experience that the Sith are manipulative and dangerous."</p><p>"If he is compromised by the Sith," Ar'alani retorted after Eli had translated the statement into Cheunh, "And the natural enemy of the Sith cannot undo what has been done," She indicated Ezra with a regal ripple of her fingers, "What do you expect us to do?"</p><p>Eli repeated the words flatly, watching Hammerly continue to study Ar'alani and process her tone. She'd become a good leader, he could tell. He'd known that Faro had escaped the Seventh Fleet's loss at Lothal. She had been Thrawn's right hand after that. He could see how much she cared about him and her crew. That she was here was an awfully big risk. Hopefully it was one she hadn't considered as just a shot in the dark.</p><p>"He had started teaching us Cheunh," Hammery said slowly, in that language. It had the lilt of Thrawn's homeworld in it, the not-quite Csillan tones of Rentor. </p><p>Ar'alani's eyes narrowed. At half speed, enunciating each word, she said, "How much do you understand?"</p><p>"Forty percent of what you said, ma'am," She supposed, speaking carefully, with muddled grammar and pronunciation. "He stopped teaching us around the time he began acting differently." In Basic, she said, "There had been a plan to use Bridger as bait for Imperial leadership. It was after an encounter with them that Thrawn began acting strangely."</p><p>Bridger waited until Eli had finished translating, then added, "Chiss feel strange to me in the Force. They are not like humans. Their minds are better protected. The last time I saw him, it was weird. He felt hazy. Like there was a barrier or something."</p><p>Ar'alani looked to Eli, confirming the translation. He did so and she asked, "Are the Sith capable of such sorcery?"</p><p>"Yes. Jedi can manipulate minds too, but it's frowned upon to go beyond little commands or instructions." Bridger met her gaze head on. "Sith bend people until they break, without regard for the person. That is what I think they're doing to Thrawn." He looked away. “At least, I hope that’s why he’s doing this.”</p><p>"If they <em>are</em> in his head,"Eli said after translating, "For all we know, he's told the Empire everything."</p><p>"That is one possibility," The admiral agreed. "But I know you don't believe that."</p><p>Eli sighed. "No, ma'am, I don't. These two were able to escape."</p><p>"He is not an impossible man to fool," Ar'alani reminded him, ever the voice of reason. "He is brilliant, not perfect."</p><p>"I know that. I simply mean that he's acting entirely differently. That's a cue. He wanted someone to notice, even subconsciously. He’s good at manipulating his behavior to deceive others."</p><p>Her voice was pensive. "I will deliberate," She said, then ordered, "Have the quartermaster assign them quarters and see to their comfort. I will call upon you later to discuss this further."</p><p>Eli inclined his head. He understood the look on her face for what it was. It was the look of a Chiss considering a dangerous course of action.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next time: Eli offers reassurance. Ar’alani gives what help she can.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This time: Eli offers reassurance. Ar'alani gives what help she can.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The blaster bolt scored the wall just to the right of Commander Pyrondi’s head. She could smell her own burnt hair and felt the singe of heat from where the bolt had nearly clipped her ear. She willed herself to hold still, though she wasn’t sure she could move even if she wanted to. She did not look away from her commanding officer. Her admiral. The strict, but patient, cool and collected and subtly kind man she admired, whom she would willingly follow into hell and back again.</p><p>He had always been the best of them. And if he killed her here and now, she would die believing that.</p><p>Yes, she felt fear. She also felt anger at whatever or whomever had done this. This was not normal. She refused to believe it, and that belief was stronger than her fear. She closed her eyes and clenched her fists, then opened them again and met his blazing gaze, his blaster still pointed in her direction. </p><p>“I did not help Hammerly and the Jedi escape.”</p><p>His fingers tightened on the blaster, knuckles going pale. He did not fire. The moment stretched on, tense and infinite.</p><p>“Very well,” He said eventually, relenting microscopically. “You are dismissed.”</p><p>Pyrondi backed over and out, looking at him through hooded eyes and thick eyelashes all the while. The admiral had not turned his back on her either, though his gaze had traveled toward one of the raised and backlit pedestals staged around the room, studying a piece of art atop it.</p><p>The door hissed open, hydraulics working in quick succession, closing and locking it behind her. She forced herself not to lose it now, though there was a definite wobble in her step, and her chest shook from the chemical cocktail of fight or flight. She turned the corner to find several officers waiting just out of sight, anxious to see what the verdict was. She inclined her head, taking in their relieved faces. Then, with a small shove of her chin, she directed them to get back to work without so much as a word. They scurried off in all directions. </p><p>Good. As far as she knew—and she suspected she would know if it had changed, she was still the commander of Thrawn’s flagship. She would act like it.</p><p>“Pyrondi.” She looked up into the dark, worried eyes of Senior Lieutenant Lomar.</p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>He gave her a tight smile and a single, barely whispered word as he passed. “Contact.”</p><p>As she continued past him, her earlier thoughts returned to the forefront of her mind. She simply did not buy it. Something had happened to the admiral. He wasn’t himself.</p><p>Pyrondi wouldn’t have been able to lie to him otherwise.</p><p>-/</p><p>Admiral Ar’alani had been waiting for Eli when he exited the lift. “She is troubled,” The Chiss said of Hammerly, instead of a greeting.</p><p>“She is,” Eli agreed. "They both are, to an extent. As much as I hate to admit it, I don't think either one is embellishing."</p><p>They walked together through corridors and hatchways rimmed in blue and green, past the officers’ mess and the Navigator’s section until they arrived at her office. Along the way, they passed warriors and officers of varying rank and roles, all of whom paused to greet them. Eli nodded silently, the tilt of his head enough of a greeting and dismissal to allow them to return to their work. Ar’alani studied him all the while.</p><p>When they entered the admiral’s office, Ar’alani toggled the lights to near-full brightness and deposited her questis on the desktop. He didn’t wait for her to motion for him to sit before doing so, sensing the lengthy discussion they needed to have.</p><p>“I have discussed the matter with the Council. General Ba’kif assures me that he is neither senile nor ruled by his emotions, but it was obvious to everyone that he is concerned.”</p><p>Yes, Eli hadn’t doubted that. He hadn’t had reason to speak directly to Supreme General Ba’kif more than once in the course of his duties, but the man took time to seek Eli out when they were in the same place. The old general cared more openly for Thrawn than Ar’alani did, and was more apt to share the occasional story when he’d caught Eli at a fundraiser or gala after having too much to drink. </p><p>“And Supreme Admiral Ja’fosk?”</p><p>“His hands are bound by red tape and political favor, no matter how much he suggests otherwise.”</p><p>Eli sighed, rubbing at his eyes. “Naturally.” He felt that flicker of anger, the desire to demand to know their next course of action, but knew better than to give in to the impulse. He trusted Ar’alani as his commander and as his mentor. They had been through a lot these last few years.</p><p>She didn't disappoint him. "What do you think Mitth’raw’nuruodo’s plan was?" She asked.</p><p>Stroking his chin, Eli said, "I can't say for sure, but if the Empire was lost, and there was no place left for all those soldiers and a huge threat looming out in the Unknown Regions…" He tilted his head, “It’s not like they have anything to lose by getting scarce and seeing what good they could do somewhere else.”</p><p>"Are Imperial star destroyers self-sustaining?"</p><p>"Hypothetically, if they had a bioengineering team." He eyed her closely, no longer wondering if they were on the same page.</p><p>"Then perhaps your hypothesis is correct,” She allowed. “If so, Ascendancy would be remiss to deny an additional task force set against its enemies, even if that task force was not entirely Chiss.”</p><p>He nodded. “And if I’m wrong, ma’am?”</p><p>She smiled, and Eli prepared himself. That look on her face meant she was about to issue a challenge, and he was almost never ready for those. But she didn't speak. She simply raised her eyebrows.</p><p>Eli froze. She couldn't be serious. “Admiral, that’s a huge risk.”</p><p>“It is,” She agreed. “I cannot say I am entirely comfortable with such a risk, but if what they told us was true, Mitth’raw’nuruodo trusted at least some of them with his goals and they in turn care enough to seek our assistance in seeing it through.” Her expression was sharp, but not angry. “You know what his mission was, and you know how precarious our current position is. These are what allies he has collected.”</p><p>Eli inclined his head. “And my mission will be to extract them?”</p><p>“Technically, your mission is to assess the situation with Mitth'raw'nuruodo.” She leaned back in her chair, though she did not relax. Eli read the words she didn't say in her posture and expression. “Ba’kif has agreed to at least that much, so long as you are willing to go alone.”</p><p>“Of course I am,” He asserted.</p><p>“I know that,” Ar’alani hissed, her eyes narrowing. “As I know you will not leave useful allies or comrades to suffer a wasteful fate. But you must promise to return to me.”</p><p>“I am loyal to the Ascendancy,” He said, something frigid and terse creeping into his voice. It seemed that all he ever did was declare what side he was on with all the vehemence he could muster.</p><p>“Your loyalties are not in question, Eli’van’to. I know what and <em>whom</em> you are loyal to.” She raised an elegant eyebrow and added, “I know you want to save him.”</p><p>“I respect him enough to kill him if it comes to that, Ar’alani.” Eli pressed, even as he ground his teeth together painfully thinking about it. “But if there’s something I can do to save him from the Empire,” Or from himself, he added mentally, “You know I’m going to do it.”</p><p>“I know.” Her gaze drifted toward her memory wall, the dark texture of the wall interspersed with trinkets, photos, and accolades, the accumulations of a life well-lived. One of them was of two cadets, one taller than the other, far more awkward and uncomfortable than the stoic and serene young woman beside him. It was curled at the edges, discolored from being touched often with pensive fingertips. “Which is why you will not be going alone.” </p><p>She let her gaze return to him as she pressed the communication button on her intercom. Eli hadn’t been able to see the alert until she had leaned in, now close enough to her console for him to see the pale blue notification light illuminate the lower half of her face. “You may enter,” She confirmed, before the panel shifted to red. </p><p>The newcomer entered without a word, stiffening to attention one step to the right and behind where Eli sat. Ar’alani waved them off. “Junior Lieutenant Vah’nya,” The admiral greeted, her red eyes bright with anticipation, “Thank you for joining us.”</p><p>-/</p><p>The hangar was quiet, unstaffed with the exception of a single control station operated by one of Ar’alani’s most trusted commanders. He felt guilty for leaving, but every moment he stayed made him feel more and more distressed. He couldn’t let it show, though. Squaring his shoulders, he met Admiral Ar’alani and stood at attention without prompting. </p><p>“Enough of that, captain,” She chided sternly. “You’ve vowed to return to the Ascendancy and I will hold you to that. Do not act as though we shall never see each other again.”</p><p>Eli smiled, and her eyes glittered in silent acknowledgement as his posture relaxed. “Yes, admiral,” He said.</p><p>“May warrior’s fortune smile upon your endeavors,” She said formally.</p><p>“Now who is the one acting as though you will never cross paths again?” Instantly receiving a sharp look, the young woman beside Eli ducked her head, subdued by the admiral’s ferocity. </p><p>“It will be a harrowing mission,” Ar’alani cautioned the younger woman. “It was not offered to you lightly.”</p><p>“We know, ma’am,” Eli gestured for Vah’nya to keep moving towards the small freighter. “I’ll keep her safe.”</p><p>“And yourself,” She reinforced. “I know whose chaos inspires you.”</p><p>“He’s not the only person I’ve learned from, admiral. And I was cautious enough on my own.”</p><p>She inclined her head. “Even so.” </p><p>When Vah’nya had gone on ahead, greeting the humans waiting inside the vessel in passable Basic and Eli turned to go, she laid a hand on his shoulder.</p><p>“Do what you must,” She told him, leaning in close enough that he could feel her breath against his ear. And then, so quiet he almost thought he imagined it, “And bring him home, Eli’van’to.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next time: Hammerly and Vanto talk strategy. Bridger and Vah’nya navigate a language barrier.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This time: Hammerly and Vanto talk strategy. Bridger and Vah’nya navigate a language barrier.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bridger brought their ship out of hyperspace right at the edge of a swirling nebula. One leg down, too many more to go. He needed a break and this was a good spot, further away from trade routes and would be military corridors. Far away stars looked almost purple-tinted through the gaseous haze, as Hammerly took her seat in the co-pilot's chair. </p><p>The kid always needed a minute after returning to sublight, whether it was a tiny freighter or the <em>Chimaera</em> itself. When he came out of his trance, eyes blinking open, sighing as if he'd just carried the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders and was finally able to set it aside, she smiled at him.</p><p>"They refilled our freshwater before we left. A real shower might help you shake it off."</p><p>"Yeah," He said. He didn't get up though, instead turning the captain's chair to face her. He moved slowly, still getting his bearings. "You're sure about these two?" He said in a low whisper. They hadn’t been told much. Hell, they hadn’t even been aboard the <em>Steadfast</em> for a standard day before Vanto had told them they’d be leaving again.</p><p>"I am," She said. "If nothing else, Vanto is the guy we came for, and I remember Vah’nya from years ago. Thrawn held her in high regard."</p><p>He nodded tentatively, but seemed to take her at her word. "There's something about her that I can't quite put my finger on…" He mused. Then, more to himself, "Maybe I need to meditate."</p><p>"I'll keep an eye on things here. Get some rest, Bridger. We're still a few days away from any viable hyperlanes."</p><p>It was clear he caught her meaning. Even when they hit one of the hyperlanes that existed way out here, they wouldn't be able to use it for long if they wanted to stay off the radar of anyone expecting them. That was enough to remove him from the chair. "Did they restock our food, too?"</p><p>"Yeah. Let me know if you can't read the script."</p><p>"I think I'll manage," He called over his shoulder. </p><p>Now alone in the cockpit, Hammerly rechecked the indicators and controls, then cycled power and set the ship to standby. It wouldn’t completely wipe them off the radar if someone cared to look, but it would conserve fuel, and the nebula should send out conflicting enough signals to make their presence negligible to all but the most paranoid of voyagers.</p><p>They were still too far out for Thrawn to be lurking nearby. At least, she hoped. If he discovered them before they wanted to be discovered, they were all done for. </p><p>She let the seat recline as far as it could go and looked up and out at the stars. The Chaos was beautiful. Beautiful and deadly, but if things panned out, this might very well be the edge of the space she and the test of the fleet called home. Though, she supposed home was a bit more of an abstract. Home was her ship, her people.</p><p>A lot of them had joined to protect the galaxy. Most of them were young and gifted but not high enough in the social hierarchy to be wealthy or influential. Beyond what Thrawn had shown them or what Bridger had gone through at the hands of Vader and Palpatine, with the New Republic…</p><p>She sighed. There was no going back for them now. She could continue to obsess over it, which wouldn't do anything, or they could press forward. She probably wouldn't be able to save them all, but she would try to save whoever she could.</p><p>The question was how they would be able to do that. They would need to do something to either restrain Thrawn, or remove him from the situation entirely. And if they did that, there was no way the Chiss would take them. If Thrawn was compromised, there was still every chance the Chiss wouldn't take them. </p><p>And then there was Vanto. Vanto, who like Thrawn, knew both sides. He would help their chances, but if Thrawn didn't come around, would he condemn them to save the Chiss?</p><p>Everything had been so cloak and blade. Ar'alani had promised them help, and she'd defined that help as the two CDF officers returning with them. That might be enough to recover Thrawn, but Hammerly had hoped for a ship. Something they could use to evacuate people, to leave the Empire—their past—behind them.</p><p>She blew out a disgruntled puff of air as Vanto came through the hatch. “Doing alright?”</p><p>“As well as can be expected.” She tilted her head as he moved around behind her, keeping him just inside her periphery until he dropped into the pilot’s chair. “Tell me you have a plan,” She said, a little more desperate sounding than she’d have liked.</p><p>“I’ve got some ideas,” The man admitted, his black uniform sharp against the desert tan and gray colors of the cockpit. “But we’ll need to be aboard the <em>Chimaera</em>. We need to know what's going on with him before we do anything.”</p><p>
“I’ve been passing encrypted updates,” She said softly. “They’re spotty at best, but Lomar will be able to intercept and get us back aboard the ship without being noticed.”</p><p>“And the crew?”</p><p>“They’re,” She sighed. “Honestly, they’re afraid. We all are.”</p><p>He nodded, but he didn’t give off any trace of nervousness or second guessing. “That’s understandable. I just wish we knew what or who we were up against. Palpatine is dead.”</p><p>“As far as I know, Grand Admiral Sloane is still overseeing the remnants’ engagements, though Thrawn suspected there were others acting behind the scenes. I know he met with her about a month before he started acting strangely.”</p><p>Vanto hummed, his eyes flicking between stars, as if running some equation in his mind. “He met with her directly?”</p><p>“Yes, aboard her flagship. That was the only time,” Hammerly confirmed. “He debriefed us afterward. He said that he had met with Admiral Sloane and she seemed pleased to have him in the fold, especially with Bridger in custody.”</p><p>Silence filled the cockpit for a moment as the other man thought through the information. There wasn't much. “Her orders?” He asked.</p><p>“Monitor. Rebuild our forces with whatever materials we could get our hands on. Once we are battle ready, we are to report to her and standby for further instructions.”</p><p>“Odd.”</p><p>“I mean, it’s boring, but it’s not an uncommon job,” Hammerly pointed out.</p><p>“No, it’s odd that she is keeping him at arm’s length. She’s got to be hurting for strategists, given the state of things. Thrawn is the best in the navy. She really must not trust him.”</p><p>“Well,” She said, “We know most of the remnants are a little feral, if not fully rogue. Her forces are a lot smaller than what they were before Endor and believe me, people noticed.”</p><p>Vanto shrugged. “I’m sure they did. It sounds like our immediate goal is to keep Thrawn meeting with her or any other presumed Imperial leadership while we sort things out.”</p><p>“Yes,” Hammerly sighed, “That’s probably for the best.”</p><p>-/</p><p>Vah’nya was quite used to being stared at. From the time she had been young and her sight manifested, she had been watched avidly by those who wished to test her skills, and then by those who sought to measure her skills against their own or others like her. </p><p>She was not, however, used to being stared at by someone like this. The blue eyed, black haired man was younger than her, though not by very much. He was weirdly quiet, too. She knew what he was, of course. Admiral Ar’alani and Senior Captain Eli had told her to be wary, but that they trusted her judgement.</p><p>And even though she was used to being stared at, she didn’t particularly enjoy any part of it.</p><p>“Is there something I can help you with?” She hissed at him in accented Basic.</p><p>He pulled back, cheeks flushing instantly. One hand scratched the back of his head, and he smiled too widely for her to actively believe whatever nonsense was about to come out of his mouth.</p><p>“Sorry,” He said around his grin. “And no, not really. It’s just-” He dropped the smiling routine, which was good, because it looked quite painful, “You feel weird,” He said.</p><p>“I do not understand,” She said, doing her best to channel the fierceness of her admiral. “Weird is insult, yes?”</p><p>“No, “He blurted, “I, uh,” His cheeks heated more this time, more than Eli’s ever did when he was embarrassed. The Jedi’s coloring was less tawny-brown and more golden. Until she’d spent that day aboard the <em>Chimaera</em> all those years ago, she had never known that humans came in so many different shades. Chiss were just… well, blue. Sure, some were a little lighter or a little darker than the color of pure sky and cool waters, but they did not range from shades of dawn to midnight, a complete spectrum.</p><p>“Sorry,” He said, and this time he spoke Cheunh. His accent was terrible. “You remind me of me.” The words were broken. He set his hand against his chest. “And not me.”</p><p>She tilted her head. She expected that if she didn’t speak, he’d try Sy Bisti. She wasn’t sure she could handle that. It was probably even worse. “Speak in your tongue,” She said in Basic. “You were not insult-” She frowned, thinking of the language conventions, “Insult<em>ing</em> me, correct?”</p><p>He nodded. “Sorry,” He said.</p><p>“Forgiven,” She answered, crossing her arms and leaning back against the cramped galley’s counter. “Explain better,” She ordered him, using her lack of fluency to her advantage. </p><p>To her mild surprise, he was much more direct. “You have the Force?”</p><p>“No,” Vah’nya pressed, shaking her head.</p><p>Frowning, he considered her. "But," He began.</p><p>"Surely Mitth'raw'nuruodo has told you how Chiss travel without your navi-computers,” She paused at the strange word, “To guide us."</p><p>They faced off in another silent stalemate until Bridger nodded.</p><p>"I was once capable of that," She informed him. </p><p>His eyes seemed to flash as he realized what she was telling him. Even so, he needed her to confirm it. "But you aren't anymore?"</p><p>She despised the pitious look in his eyes. "No," She said coolly. "I cannot use my <em>Sight,"</em> She used the Cheunh word, which the Jedi no-doubt recognized if the widening of his eyes was anything to go on. It told her what she needed to know. “I have not navigated for several years. It is weak. I would danger the crew.”</p><p>“<em>En</em>danger,” Bridger corrected, and at her glower he fixed his expression to something more acceptable. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>She offered him a Cheunh saying that made him scratch his head in confusion.</p><p>“Would you teach me?” He asked, then, “I could teach you more Basic.”</p><p>She considered. “Only if you teach me the curses.” Eli had only taught her some Basic, which was more than she'd learned in the Skywalker corps, but he insisted on helping her speak conversationally, and never translated the curses he occasionally muttered under his breath in unpleasant situations.</p><p>Bridger’s eyes gleamed. “Only if you teach me some, too.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next time: The gang reaches the <em>Chimaera</em>.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This time: The gang reaches the <em>Chimaera.</em></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Getting to the Chimaera would be the easy part, Eli thought to himself. He was pretty certain the Jedi would disagree with him, but Ezra Bridger was more observant of him than any of the others. Eli could respect that, so long as they were all on the same side when the chips fell.</p><p>When the starlines stuttered and stopped, Vanto checked the controls and waited for Bridger to relinquish his grip on the control yoke.</p><p>It took longer than it would a young Navigator. Eli didn't comment on it, though he did give the younger man a once over as he switched off the overhead lights. Yes, bright lights could mean focus and clarity. But on Chiss ships, specifically ones run by officers like Ar'alani, having the bridge set to running lights only was common. It created a collected atmosphere, one Eli found he preferred to the alternative. </p><p>Keeping the lights down tended to increase focus when they were turned up, like sharpening senses or drawing attention to a moment that had the potential to be do or die. Though, those situations had only increased in intensity over the years, and Eli had become accustomed to operating in the dark. Nothing unsettled a crew more than the lights going out. </p><p>He was well on his way to having his own command style, he supposed. But really, how could he not? He'd trained under two very different and very particular commanders. And with everything going on back home, in the Ascendancy…</p><p>Well, it was what it was. There were more important things to worry about. Like Bridger, who twitched and rose more fully from his navigational trance.</p><p>“Wait,” He said, sounding far away and muzzy as he blinked open his eyes, “Why’s it so dark?”</p><p>It really wasn’t that dark, but with the overhead light off and the two-person cockpit being too small for running lights along the floor, only the dash-indicator lights lit up this part of the ship. Still, Vanto shrugged. “I hear it helps with the sparkle vision and headaches that come after long voyages,” He said calmly, flicking on the navicomputer and running a low-power scan to get their next trajectory. “Eight jumps in four days is a lot for anyone, and the Chaos is difficult to guide a ship through.”</p><p>“I’ve done it before,” Bridger pushed, but his eyes were more wary and tired than disgruntled. “You know a lot about Navigators.”</p><p>“I know some,” He supposed, “But I doubt anyone knows everything there is.” He tilted his head. “Why?”</p><p>“This helps,” He said quietly. “Are you taking the ship in?”</p><p>“Yes. Divert power to secondary and I’ll take it from here.”</p><p>“I can move,” Bridger said, already starting to stand. </p><p>Eli reached out, left hand going to Bridger’s right shoulder to keep him in place. “Whoa there,” He said. “I can pilot from here.” He assured the Jedi, careful to recall that this was an adult, not a child he was coaching. “I’m told that the vertigo is awful.”</p><p>Blue eyes studied him, still wary but more approachable. “It is,” He admitted.</p><p>Piloting one of these little freighters was easy. Vanto could do it in his sleep. Silently he programmed their course through Wild Space and into the fringes of New Republic territory, then eyed the Jedi to ensure he wasn't about to rise. Satisfied, Eli pushed the hyperdrive lever forward.</p><p>The stars blurred more uniformly, streaking into straight lines. The ship drew more power and the usual choppiness of Sight based navigation disappeared within seconds. It was disconcerting after years of navigating through the Chaos with a young Chiss at the helm for most jumps.</p><p>Bridger leaned back against the headrest and exhaled loudly towards the ceiling. "So," He said, with the air of someone who planned on carrying the weight of conversation, "I know a little about you, and I've read your file in the <em>Chimaera's </em>databanks." He stopped talking long enough to check out Eli's face in profile, no doubt looking for any reaction he could get.</p><p>"And now you want to know why me?" Eli asked, a bit of irony poking through his otherwise calm expression.</p><p>He had spent so long wondering that himself. In fact, he had spent the better part of his twenties wondering why Thrawn had manipulated and maneuvered Eli into his place as Thrawn's aide. Then, when Thrawn had given him his task with the Ascendancy, Eli had been left to wonder if he was simply some valuable tool, a resource to be secreted away to where it benefitted Thrawn the most. Then, a year later, he had seen Thrawn again and that had been a little disappointing.</p><p>After that, he'd been left with the journal entries Thrawn had shared with him, a promotion to Lieutenant Commander, and willingness from Admiral Ar’alani.  </p><p>It had still taken him time after that to confront his own feelings—why the memory of Thrawn wouldn't fade, even as he stopped considering and relying on what Thrawn would do in tense situations and started making decisions that accounted for his own unique strengths and abilities. But as he had grown into himself, acclimating to an expanded role and furthering his connection with his superiors and their trust in him overall, Eli realized he might have missed a few crucial details. </p><p>Like the veiled emotion behind a particular journal entry, one he'd poured over endlessly when he was still adjusting to his new life and the loneliness had gotten to him. There was also his promotion to Lieutenant Commander, which Thrawn had not so subtly put into the mind of Ar'alani even as he counseled patience on Eli’s part. </p><p>There were other countless little moments between them, too. Times where Eli could read and adapt to Thrawn's needs before Thrawn made them known. In hindsight, now that Eli had started taking himself seriously, it was obvious. </p><p>Bridger tilted his head and hummed low in his throat, pulling Eli out of his thoughts. "Well," He said, recognizing that there was something there, a weight to the older man's thoughts, "Yeah."</p><p>Eli shrugged and offered the correct answer. "I was his aide for almost a decade. If something isn't right, I'll know." He didn't say what he was thinking, that if Hammerly had gotten out from under Thrawn and Thrawn had broken his word to Ezra, that something needed to be done. He didn't have to.</p><p>"If it's any consolation," The Jedi picked at flecked paint over the instrument panel, not looking up, "I really don't think this is him. And he and I used to be—" Bridger broke off, cheeks heating slightly. </p><p>Eli looked over at the kid. His shoulders were up, and his posture too tense to be comfortable. "I know," He said, "It's okay."</p><p>"You do?"</p><p>"I keep in touch with Galactic News. The Empire did a good job of covering it up," He added with an exaggerated eye roll, "But they always forget about Wild Space." That seemed to settle Bridger a little, which was good. If they were touching on the subject, Eli had some questions of his own, but he took care not to make it an interrogation. "That thing you did. Old hauler tales back home talked about how you don't leave your comms running wide open unless you want the purrgil coming for you."</p><p>"Wait." His blue eyes glittered brightly. "You've heard of that?"</p><p>Eli nodded, catching a glimpse of what Thrawn must have seen in the young man from the start. He was eager to please and more than a little rough around the edges, but he was intelligent and resourceful. To Eli’s surprise, he spoke of his plan involving the purrgil and the Seventh Fleet without lingering malice. Instead, he spoke honestly about his plan, and about the lives that had been lost as a result. He understood what it meant to take a life, and in a way what it meant to be in command. He was a warrior, Eli realized. Whether he had been friend or foe at the time, Thrawn of all people would respect him for that.</p><p>-/</p><p>The black suits and white plastoid armor pieces seemed yellowish under the dull fluorescents. Old and weathered, not the pristine polish Vah’nya remembered seeing the last time she had been in Imperial space. Nearby, Commander Carvia eyed the door. His blaster rifle was pointed toward the ground, but the safety was off and he was prepared to do what he had to should the need arise. </p><p>"Sirs," He said, then gave a separate acknowledgement to Vah’nya and Bridger, "We need to move quickly. The admiral wants us completed with our sweep and salvage in the next two hours.</p><p>Hammerly’s brow furrowed, considering their present situation. "That is nowhere near enough time."</p><p>"He's concerned about another faction that's been lingering in the area," Carvia explained. "And if it's alright, I'd rather not get on his bad side. He already shot two of my troopers for stealing rations this morning. They had it coming, but—"</p><p>"He shot them," Vanto interrupted, his eyes going wide, "Seriously? For hoarding extra rations?"</p><p>"Yes," Carvia said grimly. "Martial law is the only law here."</p><p>“Are supplies that scarce?” Eli pushed, but Vah’nya could see something subtle and dark in his gaze. He wanted to believe that and had hoped that Carvia would have made a comment in the affirmative. Unfortunately, the troop commander had not elaborated.</p><p>Things were tense here, a heaviness in the air not unlike the one that preceded battle. Vah’nya quickly changed into the black bodysleeve, heedless of modesty as she shucked off her black CDF uniform and bundled it up inside the too-large chest plate. The rest of them followed suit while the commander averted his gaze. She noted the red shoulder guard with the sigil of Grand Admiral Mith’raw’nuruodo’s fleet on his right shoulder. She didn’t have the same powers as the Jedi, so her assessments were personal intuition and her ability to read others in the infrared spectrum. Hammerly had an ambient glow about her face, facial heat denoting stress and tension that started in her cheeks and trailed down her neck and beneath the black mesh of the suit. Eli was quick to shuck off his outer layers and suit up, but his face was cool. He was holding back his emotions until he could properly assess the situation.</p><p>The armor was tricky, but she managed. How the troopers moved comfortably in the bulky outer shell, she had no idea. Up close, the plastoid was refinished, yet noticeably old and irreversibly stained. Hammerly had told them that supply lines were tangled up or entirely destroyed, with the majority of the forces out there begging, borrowing, but most likely stealing from hidden depots like this one, abandoned by Imperial forces in their attempt to build the second superweapon as fast as possible.</p><p>Vah’nya had spent almost the entirety of their trip reading up on Imperial news and protocol. They had been waiting for the <em>Chimaera</em> and her crew, had destroyed the ship and hid inside the old supply cache, waiting to be discovered by Carvia as per the rendezvous instructions forwarded through Lomar by Pyrondi. Vah’nya did not recall every one of their faces, but she quickly identified and memorized the important ones in the notes Hammerly had shared with her over their voyage. Carvia did not often show his face, so she took care to watch his gait and how he held himself to better acquaint herself with his presence.</p><p>“Alright,” Hammerly said, her voice muffled by the distortion of the trooper helmet, “Everyone ready?”</p><p>Out of all of them, Bridger seemed the most at ease in the armor, walking in perfect sync with Carvia like he’d done so a thousand times before. For all she knew, maybe he had. Hammerly was the least comfortable with it, but at least she and Eli had some experience with the cling-fit of CDF tactical gear. Vah’nya rapped her chest armor with a gloved fist. It was sound enough, but she doubted it would take more than long-range standard weapons fire. And even then, she doubted it would take all that much of it. Certainly not enough for a firefight.</p><p>It was good that that was not the case. Carvia pointed them in the direction of a white shuttle at the end of a boarding tube with a hydraulic lock at the end of it. Vah’nya had been expecting the helmet display to give her some sort of information, feedback of some kind. Instead, she found a comm switch that felt like it had been ground down at some point in the past to prevent the small push-button from chafing the previous user’s face. Vah’nya’s face was angular but a little more narrow, so though it was uncomfortable on her forehead and visually restrictive, it fit well enough. </p><p>Once they were aboard the shuttle, Carvia ushered the four of them toward the cockpit while he remained behind, ordering troopers to fill the cargo hold of the shuttle with as much as they could without stressing the engine. That was impossible, but they filled the holds and crammed as many troopers onto the benches and seats in the main hold. All in all, it might have taken half an hour to load the ship, and there was another waiting to dock that Vah’nya could see from the viewport. </p><p>“Where’s the <em>Chimaera?</em>” Bridger asked, when Carvia returned, claiming the pilot’s seat.</p><p>The trooper pointed toward a large asteroid field a few hundred kilometers off. “Watching.”</p><p>“It’s not at firing distance,” Vah’nya commented, needing to look at the sensors to confirm the presence of a star destroyer. “What happens if you get attacked?”</p><p>Hammerly answered before Carvia could. “We won’t. Anyone coming through here will need the supplies just as badly as we do.”</p><p>All of it felt wrong. It was like a doomsday situation and they had yet to set foot aboard Grand Admiral Mitth’raw’nuruodo’s flagship. She couldn’t picture him losing to Ezra Bridger, much less resorting to this. Vah’nya had been aboard warships and in dangerous situations for most of her life. She had simply stopped being shielded from them six years ago as a result of their joint operations with the Empire and her subsequent desire for knowledge and understanding.</p><p>She couldn’t imagine Mitth’raw’nuruodo as a man with anything less than the utmost integrity, the subtle undertones of understanding and kindness behind firm resolve and solid confidence. It made something in her ache, to think of an enemy so potently evil that it could unsettle or uproot someone like him. It was almost too much to believe.</p><p>Beside Carvia in the copilot’s seat, Eli leaned forward and removed his helmet altogether. It hung from his fingers limply as he took in the <em>Chimaera</em>. From afar it was hard to tell that it had ever been damaged, but as they continued toward it, Vah’nya caught a glimpse of Eli’s dark brown eyes. She had expected disbelief, but instead she saw anger, the heat that rose in his cheeks not bright enough for the others to see, but enough for Vah’nya to know he seethed. He cared about these people, even if he understood the motives behind the damage done to them.</p><p>The underbelly of the ship was bowed upward slightly, the hangar’s rectangular opening smoothed, but uneven. The signature beast that decorated the ship’s hull was repaired but imperfect, darker paneling replacing or covering defects in a mismatched patchwork of grays and whites. The upper decks and secondary command had likewise been repaired, but the scars that adorned the ship were both harrowing and a testament to the resilience of its crew.</p><p>Eli turned only momentarily to look behind him, his eyes meeting Bridger’s behind the white helm. “This was all you?”</p><p>“Technically it was the purrgil,” Bridger said. He had tried to make it sound nonchalant and of little consequence, but it sounded grave despite the helmet speaker's grainy distortion. </p><p>“A <em>lot</em> of purrgil,” Hammerly revised, taking off her helmet too. Her eyes were a deep green, and they darted back and forth, taking in the ship with resolve and familiarity. “More than I ever want to see again, if you don’t mind.”</p><p>Bridger nodded in her direction. “Trust me, I don’t ever want to be in a situation like that again either.”</p><p>"We may not have a choice," Eli said ominously. Again, he spoke to the Jedi. "You know what it takes to defeat him."</p><p>"I do," The Jedi said, and helmet or not, she could imagine his expressive features going pensive and serious. "That's why we risked our lives to get help."</p><p>"Case in point," Carvia spoke into the silence. "It'll take a miracle to beat the Admiral."</p><p>"No," Eli refuted. She saw the shift as the shadow of the ship eclipsed the cockpit's viewscreen, the subtle settling of his shoulders, the outward bloom of his posture. </p><p>As a Navigator, Vah’nya had known Eli'van'to as Eli: a kind, earnest, mildly temperamental man. As a lieutenant in the Chiss Defense Fleet, Vah’nya still thought of him as Eli a lot of the time.</p><p>But there were other times, like when he strode onto the bridge at the beginning of a shift or demanded order as he issued them in hostile solutions. Those times she still saw all those things that had drawn her to him and made her trust him above all others, but it was locked away behind a stern set to his jaw and a fiery, determined gaze as hidden confidence rose to the surface. Those times, she did not see him as Eli.</p><p>"We don't need any miracles," Captain Ivant said. "We need to work hard and pay attention. An opportunity will present itself."</p><p>Beside her, Hammerly slumped back into her seat, took a deep breath, and put her helmet back on. Vah’nya could feel her relief like a tangible thing.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next time: A clandestine meeting with Pyrondi. The gang gets to work.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This Time: A clandestine meeting with Pyrondi. The gang gets to work.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hammerly had barely had the chance to shuck off the top half of her borrowed trooper armor before Pyrondi came into the barracks under the guise of inspection. The green-clad woman let the door close behind her, put her back against it, hit the lock override from the control panel beside the doors, and slid to the ground in a heap. Her hands went to her head as she curled in on herself.</p><p>Heart leaping to her throat, Hammerly took a step toward Pyrondi only to be stopped by Bridger’s outstretched hand. Vanto was already divested of his gear and heading for the door from the other side of the room. Together, they watched as Vanto crouched before her.</p><p>They didn’t exchange any words, as far as Hammerly could tell, but after several seconds, Pyrondi scrambled forward, launching herself at him. Vanto curled a loose arm around her back as the <em>Chimaera’s </em>current commander wrapped her arms around his neck and held tight to the top of his back.</p><p>He firmed up his hold for a minute, then carefully extricated himself and offered her a hand to pull her to her feet. She took it.</p><p>“Are you alright?” He asked. Hammerly saw Pyrondi flinch and look down and to the left. In reply, Vanto stiffened. He tilted his head to the side.</p><p>Hammerly took a step closer while Vanto carded his fingers through a tuft of shorter hair on the right side of her head, eyeing the shell of her ear. “What happened?” Mina asked as she saw it.</p><p>It was reddish pink and angry but mostly healed, a small burn scar Hammerly couldn’t quite place. Vanto seemed to, his expression shifting darkly. He pulled her toward him again and she exhaled loudly into the black collar of his foreign military uniform. It took her a second to realize he and Vah’nya must have shoved their outfits into the gaps of their Stormtrooper armor.</p><p>"I'm so glad you're here," Pyrondi murmured, just loud enough for the others to hear.</p><p>Vanto murmured his agreement as they parted, gesturing to Vah’nya and Bridger who joined them. "We're going to figure this out," He said. "But first, we need to know everything that's happened since these two," He indicated Hammerly and Bridger, "Left."</p><p>To Hammerly, what had happened since she and Pyrondi had broken Bridger out of the brig was about as bad as it had been beforehand, just with the added bonus of Thrawn’s scrutiny being brought down upon his senior staff as well. Some simmering part of her wondered if Thrawn felt betrayed by her whirlwind disappearance or if some part of him had recognized her actions as a subordinate who respected her superior and had learned too much from him to abide this descent into madness.</p><p>“The only benefit Thrawn’s behavior has gotten us is that everything is reported to myself or Lomar, who reports it to me,” Pyrondi said. “Outside of myself and Carvia, Lomar is the only other one who knows about you guys being here.”</p><p>“And his officers, are they loyal to him?” Vanto’s eyes narrowed.</p><p>“They’re loyal to him. Not the Empire. That much, I’m sure of.” She confirmed, adding, “All five thousand, two hundred twenty six people on this ship are.”</p><p>“That is all?” Vah’nya cut in, her accentuated Basic rising in pitch with her question.</p><p>“That’s it,” Pyrondi confirmed. Vanto looked a bit troubled by the numbers. Hammerly felt bad that she chose not to tell him sooner but it was still bitter to think about. Between the lives lost at Lothal, those who had chosen to stay or defect afterward, and the battles against lawlessness both from Imperial factions and pirates that followed their return to the Empire, the Seventh Fleet had been reduced to a fraction of its original staffing.</p><p>“And the rest of the fleet?” Vanto asked, no doubt making note of the number for later.</p><p>Thrawn’s fleet consisted of the <em>Chimaera</em> and an odd combination of troop carriers and light cruisers to number ten crewed ships and sixteen TIE squadrons. Overall, the fleet had roughly fifteen thousand souls, and another three thousand troopers. It wasn't ideal, but it was more than enough to keep the ship functional, even if it meant early promotions and trials by fire for more than a few junior officers.</p><p>Hammerly watched Vanto's face, the hardness of his eyes and the way he swiped his thumb across his lower lip as he thought. He was like a different person. Even on the <em>Steadfast</em>, Mina had noticed how he held himself differently. He seemed lighter and more upright, even as Pyrondi added on more and more details to the current situation. </p><p>Outside of Faro, Mina and Pyrondi had been his closest friends aboard the <em>Chimaera.</em> They went for dinner and drinks at the lower level cantina, they played cards in the ready room on off-shifts during escalating situations. They had mourned Eli Vanto when he disappeared into thin air. Hammerly had been the one to report it to Thrawn, had seen the subtle twitch of urgency on his face, overshadowed with something reserved and somber.</p><p>It had been those times that she thought of, watching the shift in Thrawn this time. How his temper had flared those rare times he believed no one was watching, the pauses when he had not known a translation from his native language or Sy Bisti and had to choose a different word. Thrawn had cared about Eli Vanto. Faro had chalked it up to a mentor-protégé relationship and suggested that the two of them had mutual respect from working together in close quarters for all those years.</p><p>But Hammerly had seen them, early on, and then later, at the end. Thrawn could exist and succeed in any situation. But there was something minor, so slight one might miss it if they weren't paying attention. Thrawn had rough edges; He ruffled feathers. He didn't fit in. Vanto hadn't either, but they had fit together: Thrawn with solutions and Vanto with the data and the analysis, the mathematics to see it through. Sure, Thrawn pulled out all sorts of skills and tricks that went over Vanto's head, but so too did Vanto, finding connections that would have taken Thrawn two or three times as long.</p><p>Regardless of the countless logical reasons for it, sending him away had to have been difficult. And yet, having sent him away may very well save Thrawn now.</p><p>Because this Eli Vanto was a different man with different experiences. He was stronger—a thicker chest, larger shoulders, generally more defined despite his smaller, more compact frame. And mentally, she saw the glacial calm of a Chiss as he separated himself and his feelings from the situation at hand. She had no doubt that this hurt him; She had briefed him as best she could on their journey back from Ascendancy controlled space.</p><p>“I need more data,” Vanto said, his hand a stabilizing weight on Pyrondi’s shoulder. “I know he’s got recorders running. I want to see everything he does on the regular. And the records of any actions that trend outside his baseline. Go as far back as his meeting with Imp leadership if you can so we can do comps. The four of us will go through it. We need to figure out what the hell is going on before we do anything.”</p><p>“Yes sir,” Pyrondi said reflexively, then caught herself, looking at him thoughtfully. “Wait, I think I—”</p><p>Vanto smiled. It was just how they remembered, and oh, did that make Mina’s heart ache just a little more. He said, “If it makes you feel any better, I think I outrank most of you now.”</p><p>It did make Pyrondi feel better, Mina could tell. The other woman was more than capable of being in command. She would’ve been a fine choice as Thrawn’s first officer under any other circumstances. But they had been splitting at the seams, all of them, the surviving core of Thrawn’s senior staff from before the Lothal engagement. Having someone else take the reins, especially someone they knew was capable was a relief.</p><p>“We’ll get you what you need,” Pyrondi said, shaking off Vanto’s hand and straightening. Her face was blotchy from crying, but she scrubbed the heels of her palm against her cheeks and swiped away most of the evidence. “I’ll have Lomar and the quartermaster secure somewhere for you to work.”</p><p>Vanto inclined his head. “Thank you, Pyrondi.”</p><p>-/</p><p>Despite asking for as much surveillance as was possible, that was not the first task Eli personally handled. Instead, he poured over a datapad on Lomar’s credentials, scrubbing through matrix sheets and inventory lists to see just what the Seventh fleet had, what it needed, and what was salvageable. All it told him was that Thrawn had most certainly shot two troopers for almost no good reason. They had been in the wrong, Eli could accept that. But it had been both of the culprits’ first transgressions and they were kids, both from worlds the Empire had starved of all resources before picking up any “willing” enlistees. Both had gotten lucky and been shuffled toward Thrawn’s remnant. Bridger had watched the execution, his dark eyes shadowed by grief and anger, but he hadn’t commented on it.</p><p>Eli had pushed all thoughts of Thrawn, his motivations and his influences, out of his mind and looked at what they were working with. In a document that would sync up with Lomar’s personal datapad, he added notes about bioengineering. With the ship at such low staff, they could afford to sacrifice space to work on replicating the non-paste or gel rations they had for sustainability long term. There were a lot less mouths to feed than he’d been expecting and a little ingenuity would work wonders.</p><p>He’d put Vah’nya on it. Like her love for music, she similarly saw patterns and organization in the physical sense rewarding. It would be a good break from what he foresaw as a challenging few weeks of monitoring ahead of them. She was no stranger to the disturbing, thanks to recent events back home. Still, Thrawn was someone of importance to her. Like Ar’alani, the former Navigator idolized and wished to pay homage to him with her actions.</p><p>Their task would be arduous, to say the least.</p><p>Lomar had been the one to set them up in an analysis lab with power rerouted through another active lab, on one of the levels that had never quite recovered from its exposure to Bridger's purrgil. </p><p>They had been told it would be unlikely that Thrawn would come this way—his experience with the purrgil had been traumatic at best. Crews had already scrapped the vast majority of resources from these levels early on. They operated without emergency lights, and had access to three portable terminals that recharged through the singular live power panel in the far corner of the room.</p><p>It mostly meant long hours sitting on the deck, several datapads, his questis, and a terminal screen in front of him, sifting through logs and files. </p><p>“I don’t understand how one man can meditate so much,” Bridger said, breaking the silence. They had been at it for hours now. “And I mean that literally,” He added before Vah’nya could provide her own opinion, “He literally meditates in his office for hours. I’m a Jedi, it’s part of what we do, and even I don’t meditate that much.”</p><p>“If it works,” Vah’nya said softly. She was watching footage of him on the bridge during an engagement with an Imperial remnant turned to piracy and pillaging of worlds previously under their control. </p><p>“I mean, he’s a pensive guy, I get it.” Bridger looked at the feed. “But doesn’t he usually do this with art? I spent a lot of time with him, after…” He trailed off and Eli waved him on.</p><p>“Not always,” Eli said. “Sometimes there isn’t art, or he doesn’t need it. He’s always taken a lot of time for contemplation.”</p><p>“So does Admiral Ar’alani.”</p><p>“Not nearly as much as Thrawn, though,” Eli conceded.</p><p>It isn’t until Vah’nya and Bridger called it quits, retreating to the other corner of the analysis lab to talk quietly amongst themselves, that Eli allowed himself to watch the log Lomar had sent him. It’s separate from the ones they’ve been watching for the last few days, the recordings of Thrawn’s day-to-day activities, both the mundane as well as his extraordinary talents for combat.</p><p>This log was incomplete, filled in with notes from several witnesses, reports with nowhere to be filed by concerned parties and prospective allies. He forced himself to start with the most recent footage as a basis for comparison to the beginning. </p><p>It was dated a week earlier, the first shift of the day they had arrived. The two troopers caught hoarding extra rations stood before Thrawn, trembling.</p><p>Thrawn, for a being who was always so absurdly regal and poised, had horrific posture. Perhaps it was his way of making himself more approachable, his height an added level of intimidation he hoped to negate. Or, more likely, it was a remnant of a younger man, a man whom Eli had never met, but could glean the impression of in careful inspection of his memories of their time together. Ar’alani was not one for reminiscing often, but they had on occasion. </p><p>For just as Eli was inspired by Thrawn, Thrawn had been guided by Ar’alani and Ba’kif. Eli had originally been chosen for his usefulness, he had no misgivings about that. But both of Thrawn’s former superiors were quite sincere in their belief that Thrawn had recognized parts of his younger self in Eli, too. They really were two of a kind, in their own obscure way.</p><p>Or at least, they had been. Eli watched on as a man he didn't recognize, stiff-backed and tense from head to toe, carried out judgement. His voice was clear, proud and sonorous, with an edge like a knife. An inflexibility, a durasteel spine that would not yield or see reason. These were children, just about. New enlisted for the Empire received training in the field, Hammerly had informed them. Specifically troopers, who were about as low on the ladder as one could get as far as infantry were concerned.</p><p>One of Eli’s largest qualms about the Empire, one Thrawn had known about before he had sent Eli away, was the Empire’s lack of regard for the lives of its people, human, alien, or otherwise. Everyone, it seemed, was just a tool or a resource to be used until it was no longer effective. Eli had seen Thrawn take Imperial lives. But he had taken them for a reason, not simply to inspire fear and compliance.</p><p>Mitth’raw’nuruodo was not a perfect man, but Eli had long since learned that command was about balancing the greater good with necessary evils. Taking lives was a part of that.</p><p>Eli watched on as the Grand Admiral Thrawn in the recording executed two troopers in front of their peers. The deed itself was brief and efficient, and the two deceased had been so before their bodies hit the deckplates. The chilling part was what came after.</p><p>“You are expendable,” Thrawn had said, a touch of an amused smile upon his face. It was as if he were daring them to challenge him. Eli had to physically brace himself against the shudder that zipped down his spine. “As is anyone who does not comply with my orders.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next Time: Mounting inconsistencies and longstanding habits translate to patterns to be explored.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This Time: Mounting inconsistencies and longstanding habits translate to patterns to be explored.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I think you should take a break,” Hammerly said, breaking the longstanding silence in the lab.</p><p>Vah’nya leaned back from her own observation, taking stock of the room. The area around Eli was a mess of devices and flimsi, handwritten and keyed notes everywhere, while his face was all but pressed against the terminal’s viewscreen, a remote in his hand to play and replay events as necessary.</p><p>“You’re probably right,” Eli said to her, leaning back and switching off the console. “Unless we’re missing something, I don’t think we’re going to get much more from watching him like this.” </p><p>They had been monitoring Thrawn for weeks now, keeping up to date with his and the fleet’s activities, while also familiarizing themselves with past events. If nothing else, she could definitely agree with the mutual consensus (and her own initial gut feeling) that some outside factor was at work here. The older woman dropped into a cross-legged position across from them, clearly waiting for Eli to continue. She didn’t have to wait long.</p><p>“I’ve been looking into what the Ascendancy has on Sith artifacts and sharing them with Bridger. He said the only thing that he’s known to scare Thrawn—gas-eating, fleet destroying beasts aside—were Force users.”</p><p>“More than one?”</p><p>“Yes.” He looked at Hammerly, “The creature on Atollon, for one,” He said, “Though Bridger said he and his master had learned from it, and it was more of a neutral entity, like a force of nature.”</p><p>
“Nice of him to share with us.” Hammerly retorted.</p><p>“I can’t imagine he wanted to frighten you. Things that scare him have to be pretty damn terrifying,” Eli mused. “So there’s that one, this one,” He indicated Ezra, though Ezra prickled, ready to deny the present validity of such a claim. Eli continued over him, “And the Emperor. Rumor had it that Vader was his apprentice.”</p><p>“Thrawn wasn’t afraid of Darth Vader,” Hammerly refuted.</p><p>Vah’nya frowned, thinking about it. She remembered that name from somewhere. “Maybe not consciously,” She added, the cogs in her head turning. Gossip was a form of currency aboard most Chiss ships, and in Chiss society as a whole. Most of the Chiss’ military astute knew a fair bit about the Empire. And most of those Chiss had aides and secretaries who gave rise to rumors based on what they overheard. And the other human, the loud, abrupt one Thrawn had foisted upon Admiral Ar’alani when they parted last had had plenty to say about Darth Vader...</p><p>Eli inclined his head to her, proving her suspicions correct. “Admiral Ar’alani received a report detailing Thrawn’s first meeting of Vader, not a week after it happened. That same report concluded with a request for her to consider taking me on as a member of the Defense Fleet."</p><p>"I didn't know that," Vah’nya told him. </p><p>"Neither did I, until I read the notes Ar'alani sent with me." He exhaled. "There were other good reasons to send me, but—"</p><p>"You could have been used against him," Hammerly said softly. "Everyone knew you were important to him."</p><p>"His whole crew is important to him."</p><p>Hammerly put her hands on her hips. It was like a flip-paddle match, watching the conversation go back and forth, right down to their increasingly exasperated, but mutually perceptive expressions.</p><p>To her surprise, Hammerly yielded first. "All I am going to say," She began, and Vah’nya realized her mistake: The woman’s gentleness was not surrender, "Is that we assumed you were dead when you disappeared to the Ascendancy. You wouldn't have left him without a good reason. He's the smartest man we know, but he's as politically adept as a meiloorun." Eli smiled a little at that. "And he was angrier, without you. You understood him."</p><p>"No," Eli said, "I didn't."</p><p>"But you do now?"</p><p>"Now," Vah’nya's captain said, steady and serious, "I think I might have a shot at it."</p><p>-/</p><p>“So what you’re saying is that we have nothing.”</p><p>It was hardly surprising that Pyrondi was fraying under the tension. Thrawn had been voracious for resources, pushing his crew hard to capitalize on abandoned caches and remnants with leaders who proclaimed themselves warlords of a sector or planet, often in bloody battles exercising overwhelming force. Eli doubted she was sleeping, if the bags under her eyes were any indication. She only came to see them every two or three days, times without rhyme or reason, typically while the admiral—while <em>Thrawn</em> was in his office. </p><p>"We have some ideas," Hammerly assured her, with a pointed look toward him. She felt similarly, Eli knew, but she didn't dare say so now. She looked Pyrondi up and down. "How long do you have?" She asked.</p><p>“An hour, maybe two until we’re summoned to the bridge for a briefing.”</p><p>Eli nodded. “I’m going to use your datapad. You’ll have everything you need on a card when I wake you up.”</p><p>“What do you need me to do?”</p><p>Hammerly tossed her the thin blanket from her bunk, and jerked her thumb at the racks. “Sleep. We’ll wake you up.”</p><p>The <em>Chimaera’s</em> captain was too tired to argue, trudging to the nearest bunk meant to sleep a stormtrooper and curling up into a tiny ball. Hammerly put a hand on her head, stroked her hair once, and moved with the rest of them to the far corner of their base, of sorts. Without full staff, there were plenty of places for a couple of stow-aways to house themselves. And with trooper armor at their disposal, it was easy enough to get around, to sneak to the mess for a ration bar, or to utilize a sonic at one of the dojos without detection. </p><p>This was the third room they had made use of as their shelter since arriving at Thrawn's flagship. While they had gathered data, Thrawn had been running his crew hard. There had been no less than five altercations with former commanders or political officials rendered warlords over their previous patrol routes or sectors. Thrawn had won them all, of course. He was as efficient as ever, but Eli had watched the recordings of his command, had seen the way he behaved on the bridge.</p><p>He was not as hands on, barking orders at Pyrondi, enacting plans without allowing his staff to understand what it was they were doing, even after things had gone his way. The crew was mostly new, and mostly young. He could see the stiff-backs and frightened faces, the concern that layered over their expressions when no one was looking. Lomar stuck to Pyrondi, and Agrol as well. Both senior lieutenants clung to her like a guard. </p><p>Thrawn had noticed, too. He split them up, often forcing several ensigns to run between them while Agrol did analysis and monitored the helm, Lomar handled any transmissions, and Pyrondi flitted between first officer and weapons expert from the crew pits.</p><p>The recorders covered every angle of the bridge, presenting a perfect holoimage of the events as they unfolded. Eli tended to watch in real time when he could. Each and every time Thrawn came to the bridge, it was with one single death trooper escort. The armor was scuffed and imperfect, paint flecking, but that just made him seem that much more menacing. </p><p>“What are you using her datapad for?”</p><p>Eli looked up into Hammerly’s concerned eyes, making room for her beside him on his bunk. “I want to see what he’s planning, and I can get that from her reports while she rests.”</p><p>“He’s making for more fringe systems for supplies.”</p><p>“Yes, but he’s being very careful about whom and what they’re going after.” </p><p>“It’s all munitions,” Bridger said. “Lomar told me in the mess yesterday.”</p><p>“Did he say why?”</p><p>“No,” The Jedi folded his legs under him and closed his eyes, thinking it over. “Why weapons instead of food and medical supplies?”</p><p>“People don’t have them to spare,” Vah’nya pointed out.</p><p>“He’s having them wipe out entire remnants, and the vast majority of their perishable resources in the process,” Hammerly objected. “It’s a waste. Another inconsistency, too.”</p><p>“It is,” Eli agreed, and flipped through the inventory reports one of Pyrondi’s chief supply officers had sent her. TIE parts, turbo laser repair parts, shield generators, fuel.” He scrolled through the sheets, comparing the previous several engagements. Studying the data always made him feel at peace with his decisions, better understanding the motivations and objectives an adversary prioritized. It made him feel grounded and prepared, less prone to frustration or irritation because he ultimately understood his opponents.</p><p>And that, he realized, was precisely what he had been missing. Really, he thought, what <em>had</em> he been thinking? He was never going to be able to read Thrawn without the use of creative logistics.</p><p>“Vah’nya, stop what you’re doing,” Eli said, then, “Bridger, I need you to work with her on something.”</p><p>He set aside the datapad, letting Hammerly take it. “What is it?” She asked as the two younger members of the group assembled before them.</p><p>“Bridger, you said something about Thrawn meditating a lot,” Eli began. “The two of you went through the bulk of the recordings from his office, right?”</p><p>“We did,” Vah’nya confirmed.</p><p>“I need raw data,” He said, mind racing as the full weight of the realization washed over him. “I need to know dates, numbers of artworks studied, and the names of them, if you can get them from the terminal. The <em>Chimaera</em> has an extensive artwork library. Tell me when he’s studying them, and how long he’s studying them.”</p><p>The Jedi tilted his head. “Doesn’t he just study the art of worlds he’s going to?”</p><p>“Yes,” He agreed. That was true, “But Thrawn also thinks lightyears ahead of the rest of us. Whatever his long term plan is, he’s preparing for it now.”</p><p>“You’re going to out-art Thrawn?” Hammerly asked, louder than she intended.</p><p>“No way in hell,” Came the drowsy mumble from Pyrondi. They all looked at her, and after a moment, she cracked one eye open. “No offense.”</p><p>Eli shook his head. “You aren’t wrong there. I’m not trying to beat him at art. I’m looking for patterns and data. If they can get me the raw data, I’ll put together the connections.” He ignored the niggling uncertainty, the unspoken <em>I hope</em> that lingered in his throat when he’d finished speaking.</p><p>-/</p><p>Data didn’t lie. Gathering all of the relevant information and organizing it was useful, because more often than not, it answered whatever question Eli had about a given subject or situation. In the same way, because it simply was, it simply existed as ordered numbers and headings. Therefore, often what Eli extrapolated from sets of data was not simply the answer to whatever question he’d had.</p><p>Such was the case here, even before Bridger had noticed anything. </p><p>To Eli, the pattern and its implications were obvious. To Bridger, not so much. The lone Jedi in their midst had explained that his abilities were focused around connection. He had been able to utilize purrgil against Thrawn via a combination of ingenuity and his ability to connect with the giant creatures using the Force. He was able to give commands to people with weaker minds, telling them to forget something they’d seen or issue a direct order that didn’t entirely conflict with their normal behavior patterns. </p><p>That was a frightening prospect. Bridger had explained that one of the agreements he and Thrawn had made upon deciding to move past their previous status as enemies was that he was not allowed to use that ability on any of his crew. Bridger further explained that he understood what it was like to push this ability past what Jedi felt were acceptable limits. </p><p>Bridger sat at the console beside his, frowning as he set down the datapad he had been using to record information. “He’s studying a lot less art now than he did months ago. Do you think that’s why his temper is so bad?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Eli said. “But he’s not really studying any of the enemies they go up against. All his most recent art is from Corellia.”</p><p>“We’re nowhere near Corellia,” He quipped back. “So why—”</p><p>“I’m from Corellia,” Hammerly admitted quietly from across the room. “You don’t think he’s trying to figure out what I did with Bridger, do you?”</p><p>“Maybe, but he doesn’t appear to be focused on that. I need to talk to Lomar.” He picked up his questis out of habit, before remembering that it wasn’t the right one for communications here, then picked up one of Lomar’s copied datapads.</p><p>“What do you need from Lomar?”</p><p>“I need what Thrawn isn't telling Pyrondi.” </p><p>The <em>Chimaera’s </em>former captain rose from her console, her eyes wide. “You don’t think—”</p><p>“I do,” Eli said. It wouldn’t be the first time the Empire resorted to such petty tactics to prove the loyalty of its people. Likewise, it wasn’t the first time Eli felt a wash of thankfulness that Thrawn had sent him to the Ascendancy when he did. If he hadn’t… Eli couldn’t help but consider the possibility that they would have found themselves on opposite sides of a battlefield long before now.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next Time: A tentative plan takes shape.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This Time: Ezra introduces Vah'nya to Lesser Space music. A tentative plan takes shape for Eli.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Vah’nya pulled the helmet over her head and stalked along behind Bridger. Typically she didn’t go anywhere without Eli, however he had been knee deep in analysis since she’d taken to her bunk last night and didn’t appear to be stopping anytime soon. Whatever was going on, whatever patterns he had seen, he was too close to stop now, and too ornery to be disturbed. Senior Lieutenant Lomar was supposed to be meeting with him after the aurek shift. Until then, they had been told to make themselves scarce.</p><p>To Bridger, that apparently meant dragging her to procure a meal at the mess, then finding a place off the recorders that seemed to be tucked into every nook and cranny of the ship so as to allow Vah’nya to actually eat that meal while also providing them with a change of scenery.</p><p>He seemed different today, more tightly wound and manic than he usually was. Vah’nya couldn’t put her fingers to the pulse of this ‘Force’ that granted him powers, and she certainly didn’t appreciate him using it as an excuse to do ridiculous things even if he was right.</p><p>Her sense of precognition, even at the peak of her ability to use Third Sight was nowhere close to that of Bridger’s. Steering a ship was complicated, but it was the only practical use Navigators had ever lent their abilities to. Bridger used his in tandem with his ability to manipulate objects to prevent things from falling, or to pull someone out of the way of an ensign with their hands full of data cards en route to an important briefing with a twitch of the fingers that made it all seem natural.</p><p>"Come on," He said, securing the lock behind him with a flick of his fingers in the air.</p><p>"Convenient," Vah’nya hissed between her teeth in accentuated Basic. She was unable to hide the very obvious lilt in her tone, and that meant she couldn't really talk in the company of anyone but the group she'd come with. The others who knew of their presence had very little free time, and Vah’nya did not know them very well. “Where be—”</p><p>“Where <em>is</em>,” He interrupted.</p><p>Vah’nya cursed viciously at him in Cheunh. </p><p>Bridger laughed. "I remember what that one means," He beamed, and she crossed her arms, helmeted tilted to one side. He seemed to gulp simultaneously with her eyes narrowing behind the impassive Stormtrooper armor and held out his hands. "We're safe," He said, sheepishly. "I used to come here sometimes, before."</p><p>That gave her pause. "There are no holocameras or recorders?" She asked.</p><p>Bridger swept his eyes around the room. “I double checked all the feeds. As far as I know, Thrawn never knew I came down here, either.” He motioned her through a mostly empty equipment storage room with lockers on all four walls. Further back there was a tiny alcove with a threadbare chair and two couches that looked like they had been well loved in the past. Between that, a tower that housed a small, broken comm speaker, and a portable holoplayer that looked older than anything she’d ever seen.</p><p>“It used to be the TIE-D ready room, but most of the Defender pilots are gone now,” He explained, throwing his helmet down on the chair before reclining back on the far couch and tearing open his ration bar.</p><p>“You killed them,” Vah’nya revised shortly.</p><p>He looked up at her, mouth turned down in a frown. He met her gaze as she removed her helmet. “Yes,” He said. He didn’t elaborate.</p><p>That didn’t make either of them feel any better. She tried, “You did what must be did.”</p><p>“Yes,” He agreed. “But you would say, ‘you did what you had to do.’”</p><p>“Basic is a foolish language.”</p><p>“How would you say it?”</p><p>“It is a phrase for doing difficult things, yes?” Bridger nodded. She hummed. “We say, ‘<em>ei ch'at ch'atvun'bovah to csihehn</em>.’”</p><p>The Jedi turned away from her. “Your language is beautiful,” He said. “I liked listening to Thrawn speak it, even if I couldn’t ever understand half of what he said unless he spoke slowly.”</p><p>“He is a wise man,” She commented softly, pulling out her own ration bar but holding it loosely between her folded hands. “I worry for him,” She said. “I do not know him as well as any of you, but—”</p><p>“Why does that matter? You care about him,” Bridger pointed out. “That’s enough, Vah’nya.”</p><p>“Is it?”</p><p>“I think so,” He said earnestly. </p><p>She hummed, finally ripping at the seam of the wrapper, breaking the ration into small pieces to make it tolerable. She couldn’t wait until the bioengineering team was actually working on the space she’d designed to house their flash-grow crops. She knew they couldn’t possibly engineer meat with the resources available to them, but they could get something more nutritious than gels with a meal’s worth of protein or a bar so dry they were practically a choking hazard. </p><p>“Hey, so I—” The Jedi realized he was very loud in the quiet room and flushed brilliantly, voice going quieter. “I heard you like music.”</p><p>She raised an eyebrow, folding the wrap of her meal over the uneaten portion. “Did Eli tell you?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>She closed her eyes. Of course, she thought, her eyes stinging. She refused to let herself show weakness. There was nothing crying or whining would do about any of it.</p><p>“So the real reason we’re here,” He said, fishing a datacard out of his belt-pouch and very pointedly not looking at her glossy, glowing eyes, “Is because this speaker is busted. It has been for years now.”</p><p>She eyed it, then him, her emotions eclipsed by curiosity.</p><p>"They could've gotten someone to fix it, but…"</p><p>He pulled a tool out of another pocket at his waist and pulled up some wires attached to the back of the broken comm speaker from where they dangled onto the ground, carefully hooking them into the holoplayer. A few moments of tinkering, and he set down his multitool with a sigh of success. </p><p>“Do you want to try Corellian drinking songs, Quenk jazz, or Herlig rage-metal?” He asked. “There are other kinds, but that’s what’s on this one.”</p><p>She considered. “Definitely rage-metal.”</p><p>Bridger cringed. It was almost something to smile about. “Suit yourself,” He said, and set the device to play.</p><p>-/</p><p>Eli looked up from his work, sipping the murky caf he'd gotten from Hammerly at the beginning of Aurek shift when she'd realized he decided not to sleep the night before. The liquid was thick, the cup marked with rings from where it sat between Eli taking a couple swallows.</p><p>The doors whooshed open with a click, and he looked up into Senior Lieutenant Lomar’s dark eyes.</p><p>"You look like shit, Captain," Lomar said quietly. </p><p>The older man was mostly gray now, with streaks of brown-black hair. The last time Eli had seen him, it had been about half and half. Eli pushed himself up from his makeshift workspace and clasped hands with him. </p><p>"It's good to see you too," He said. "How are you holding up?"</p><p>"Alright," The comms officer supposed. "I've got it better than most. He gives orders, I follow. Not much thinking in my position." He gave a little jerk of his head, sounding a bit glum. "Makes it a lot easier now, even if I wish the impression my CO has of me isn't that I'm an idiot yesman."</p><p>"He isn't thinking clearly. You know that."</p><p>"I do," Lomar agreed. "I know he doesn't hate us. He does not wear his heart on his sleeve like a human would, but he does care more than most."</p><p>Vanto nodded. "In his way," He confirmed. "Do you have the teams for me for the bioeng project?"</p><p>"I do. The ensigns were happy to help. Anything to keep them from waiting on Thrawn."</p><p>"What do you mean?" His eyes narrowed. </p><p>"Thrawn decided to forego an aide until, well, this. After you left, Faro had her people and they filled in the gaps, but the admiral’s always been more than capable of dealing with things on his own. Now…" He shrugged. "Hammerly noticed he wasn't eating much before she left and assigned ensigns to bring him meals. She remembered how you used to cater to him when he was in a mood and that it tended to bring him out of it."</p><p>"Does it help?"</p><p>"Not anymore. He's frightening. The last time one of them made his caf wrong, they wore it for their trouble."</p><p>"What the hell?" Eli asked it like a question, but it was rhetorical. He knew there was an explanation, and yet… "They know he isn't—"</p><p>"The young ones don't know better," Lomar admitted. "We got some fresh recruits on our way to that rendezvous with Sloane. Kids, all of them. Barely academy age. The admiral and Bridger believed they were better off with us, but now I'm not so sure."</p><p>Rubbing at his temples, Eli sighed. "I want to meet them," He said.</p><p>"They'll certainly tell him. I cannot stress how much they are afraid of him."</p><p>"The way I see it, if they meet with me then come clean to him, he'll kill them anyway. I saw the holos, Lomar. He's killing people almost indiscriminately at this point."</p><p>The senior lieutenant swallowed hard. "I know, sir."</p><p>"If you're that concerned, let’s get them going on bioeng and I’ll infiltrate as a new recruit."</p><p>"You'll almost certainly get sent to Thrawn's office," Lomar pointed out. </p><p>"Good to know," Eli said, firmly enough that Lomar got the idea that it would be on the table for future discussions. The comms officer grunted and waited for him to continue. None of that had been why he was summoned here, and he still had his normal duties to attend to. "What do you have for me on the comm logs?"</p><p>"I put out the feelers you wanted," Lomar said crisply. "Got several hits. Mostly little factions, or so it seemed at first. I cross-referenced them with locations and codes you mined from Clone War transmissions. How did you know?"</p><p>"Call it an informed guess. Do you have the list?"</p><p>Lomar produced his datapad and tapped a key, the matrix sheet glowing up at them. Eli leaned over it, eventually tapping a frequency. A quick glance up at Lomar told Eli the man didn't quite make the connection, but he'd do as Eli instructed. "Should I make preparations for a dead drop?"</p><p>"Not yet. Do you have anything on Sloane?"</p><p>The comms officer shook his head. "On his order, all transmissions from Sloane go to the admiral directly. But, to my knowledge, there have not been any."</p><p>"Could you tap his comm and find out if he's contacted her?"</p><p>"Not remotely. We’d have to slice into his office holocomm to pull the data locally.”</p><p>Eli nodded, the beginnings of a plan arranging itself in his mind. He eyed Lomar. He had a sneaking suspicion that the senior lieutenant wasn’t going to like this one bit. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next Time: Vanto revisits his time as an Ensign. Thrawn considers his options.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This Time: Vanto revisits his time as an Ensign. Thrawn considers his options.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Level Isk’s rear maintenance facilities looked a little worse for wear, but it had been cleaned well enough and the necessary equipment was there waiting for them. Carvia's people had been a big help, and Eli had to admit he was pretty damn impressed by their progress over the last few weeks. Now, it was up to him to make this look convincing.</p><p>And, he thought, taking a deep breath and looking over at the armor-clad young man beside him, it was both their jobs not to blow this. </p><p>Bridger shuddered the same way Eli’s Navigators did when they felt an oncoming assault was imminent. Still, the young man composed himself in that cool detached way most Stormtroopers held themselves. Meanwhile, Eli went without armor, dressed in a second hand olive uniform that had belonged to someone else, an ensign’s pin on the chest. He was youngish still, certainly he looked younger than he felt these days, and this was probably the first and only time that would work in his favor. </p><p>“Starting today,” Carvia said, voice thicker with the helmet’s speaker, “You all will be responsible for getting our bio-units up and running. There are eight different crops we’ll be starting with, all quick grow. Do it right and the first yield will come in ten standard. It won’t taste great, but it’s not nutrient packs from the Clone War so I think we can all agree to grin and bear it.”</p><p>Troop Commander Carvia continued issuing the instructions given to him by Lomar, instructions Eli had provided to the comms officer himself. There should have been questions—the way the commands had been passed down was anything but typical, and the task wasn’t exactly self-explanatory—but these kids were scared. Terrified, really, of stepping even a single toe out of line.</p><p>Eli had planned for that.</p><p>“These two,” Carvia continued, “Have some experience with this sort of thing. They’ll be helping you out.”</p><p>Again, there weren’t any questions, and within fifteen minutes he and Bridger were alone with the bulk of the <em>Chimaera’s</em> ensigns.</p><p>“I’m Ensign Cartar,” Eli said, approaching the group. “This is trooper TK-836,” He added, forcing himself away from command voice and reaching for the softest, shyest Lysatran tones he had. “But  you can call him—”</p><p>“My friends call me Jabba,” Bridger interrupted.</p><p>The junior officers all looked at each other, and Eli resisted the urge to wince. </p><p>“Like the dead Hutt?” One of them asked meekly, a blossom of amusement in her voice. </p><p>“It’s technically my middle name. My parents had an… interesting sense of humor,” Bridger added conspiratorially, nudging Eli with his boot as he passed, going over to the rest of their new workgroup. </p><p>Eli clenched his fists and uttered a curse under his breath. If word got back to Thrawn about a Stormtrooper called ‘Jabba,’ that would be the end of everything. It was such a stupid gamble, just to accelerate the process. But there was nothing to be done about it now. </p><p>“We should probably get to work on the artificial sun-lamps and vaporators,” He said carefully, with that same frightened trill all the other ensigns had. “Who knows when Commander Carvia will be back.”</p><p>The physical work wasn’t nearly as unpleasant as the lot of them acted like it was. Eli had never minded putting together these sorts of things. They were all straightforward. He imagined that the solid two shifts they spent putting together metal cases and stringing sunlamps from the top of a makeshift biosphere would be more than worth it when they had the necessary components for flatbread and fresh, protein-rich legumes—the precursor to dehydrated veg-meat—within the next two weeks.</p><p>Within four weeks, barring severe complications, they would have a viable operation that could feed the roughly five-thousand souls aboard the Chimaera. </p><p>Eli murmured an oath in Cheunh, one Ar’alani had taught him during their time together. They used it far more often than either of them cared for, stretched beyond their means and during some of their darkest hours. </p><p>After all, Eli had never been interested in farming, bioengineering or otherwise. Regardless, he knew logistically what it took to keep a crew of people alive, and he had been the one responsible for implementation of a very similar process a few years back. Ar’alani had been right. Though that had been a challenge, his team had made it work.</p><p>No matter how many missions or objectives he cleared, the next ones always made all the previous ones feel like practice. This one would certainly require most, if not every skill he had struggled to develop throughout his career. He looked around, taking in the faces of the ensigns as they caught on to the rhythm and camaraderie that came with doing this type of labor. They were barely old enough to get accepted into the academy, he reminded himself. They had entire lives ahead of them.</p><p>Eli couldn’t afford to fail Thrawn, but he refused to fail them, either. </p><p>-/</p><p>When the aurek shift ended, he noticed the change in the ensigns’ demeanor immediately. He continued what he was doing, hooking up another sunlamp by welding it to the bulkhead to the bulkhead. It didn’t take long for three of the ensigns to come to him. He felt Bridger’s eyes on him as well, but they had discussed this though it hadn’t gone well at the time. Eli needed to handle the next part alone, as dangerous as it might be.</p><p>“Cartar," The female ensign, Trulan, called up to him. "Can you come down here for a second?"</p><p>Eli took a deep breath, holstered the small weld-tool he'd been using to the belt at his waist, removed the heat-mask from his face, and toggled the lift controls to bring him back to floor level. He exhaled, forcing himself to act younger. It seemed so surreal. He was used to being the youngest in the room. How many times had the Chiss called him young and reckless and impatient before he got his act together? Probably a million. But he'd learned his lessons and trying to undo that was more difficult than he had imagined.</p><p>What he wanted to do was give orders, to soothe the young officer's concerns and help them work smarter rather than exhausting themselves. Hopefully, if this went well, that day would come soon. Until then… he'd have to hope he could walk the walk. </p><p>"What can I do?" He asked, a little more brightly than he normally would, as if he had been caught off guard.</p><p>"You're the new guy around here," She said, as if it wasn't painfully obvious. "And that means you get to take the Grand Admiral his latemeal and caf."</p><p>Eli neglected to comment that it was too early for latemeal, but he wasn't about to question or disturb the new order of things. "Me?" He asked, taking care to sound small as he said it. "I don't—I don't even know how he likes his caf." The lie tasted bitter in his mouth. </p><p>"Just dump a ton of sweetener in it," She told him, her casual shrug at odds with the discomfort etched into the wrinkles on her forehead. She either didn’t know how to make it herself, or didn’t want to be held accountable for what would happen to him if he did it wrong. "I doubt he drinks it anyway."</p><p>She was wrong. He did drink it. Eli had been watching the man. No matter how awful, he always ate the meal brought to him. If Eli were a betting man, he’d bet that was the only time he ate in the course of a day.</p><p>"Will he be in there?"</p><p>Trulan sighed, "He'll probably be in his en-suite dojo, but he almost never acknowledges us. Just go in, drop it off on his desk, and get out. If he is at his desk or for some reason decides to stop you, just salute and do what he says."</p><p>Eli allowed his head to bobble in some shaky semblance of acknowledgement. "I should probably clean up and get going then," He said.</p><p>"Yeah," She agreed, patting him awkwardly on the shoulder. "See you tomorrow."</p><p>"Yeah," He echoed, like a man being sent to his execution.</p><p>Which, if this went wrong, or worse, if Thrawn figured out who he was and what he was doing? That would almost certainly be the case. </p><p>-/</p><p>He walked the halls like a wraith, the deckplates comforting and familiar beneath his feet. Little brought him solace, though he hardly sought such peace these days. He took a moment to consider why that was, why he'd even thought of it, decided it was unnecessary, and continued through the corridors and passageways that would return him to his office.</p><p>He had both study and exercise to do. The latter would quiet his mind for the former, he decided. It was a pattern he had developed when meditation failed to smooth over his mind and allow him to slip into the depths of focus. </p><p>He left the office dim, casting his eyes about for signs that the day's ensign had brought a meal for him. Not yet. They were late, he thought. Irrational anger rose in him but he kept it at bay. There were many factors for such a thing, he reminded himself.</p><p><em>But what if they are plotting against you? </em>His own voice, dark and considering, questioned him mentally.</p><p>He shook his head. His crew was loyal to him. They would not dare.</p><p><em>Yes,</em> That voice in his mind said, <em>But humans are fickle. Their loyalties waver.</em></p><p>No, he thought, though he did not have the focus to determine the reason why he felt so convinced otherwise. He was certain it was a good reason, but he needed to… he needed to—</p><p> —train.</p><p>
  <em>Perhaps contemplation would not be remiss. There is that one piece that continues to evade your understanding.</em>
</p><p>Closing the hatch to his private dojo behind him, he returned to his office though he did not recall consciously making that decision. There was always a perverse feeling of wrongness about approaching the desk, his body fighting it, some foreboding danger sense kicking deep in his gut. He disregarded it as he cast his eyes about his office. Gone were the relics from his prime as Grand Admiral, all destroyed as a result of Bridger's interference. His office was plain and dark, a balm for his eyes after long hours on the bridge.</p><p>There was only one permanent piece tucked into the right corner, away from prying eyes of guests and always visible from his desk.</p><p>The piece itself was striking. Sharp, yet smooth to the touch, dark, yet it almost glowed if he looked at it from the corner of his eye. Black, red, and gold. Colors of power and opulence, dominance and control. But that was not all. </p><p>There was something almost inviting about it, its elusiveness playing on his curiosity. Perhaps if he just… No. His fingers clenched into fists, fingernails breaking skin. Absolutely not. Not. Again. He needed to—</p><p>
  <em>Surely you will get it this time. You are so very close.</em>
</p><p>Don't look, he told himself, but it didn't work.</p><p>His eyes followed the sharp lines and further down, across obsidian and inlaid gold patterns, muted, stoked-coals red. His fingers twitched and his throat worked, muscles jumping like a prey animal caught in a snare before futility set in and he relaxed all at once. </p><p>Yes, that was it. He needed to study it more. Surely this time he could figure out the artwork’s secrets. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next Time: A familiar complication becomes an asset. Vah'nya wants to comfort her friend.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This Time: A familiar complication becomes an asset. Vah'nya wants to comfort her friend.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Standing in the doorway, Eli gave himself a moment just to look. His first impression, eyes directed upward through shaggy hair and a low drawn cap, was that Thrawn looked older. Thinner and less muscular though still obviously strong, his hair graying at the temples. He wasn't properly caring for himself.</p>
<p>The holos he had watched did not have the same clarity that being in the same room with Thrawn did. Eli could see the sky blue color of his skin had dulled, an indicator of his lack of proper nutrition. That told Eli he probably wasn't eating unless something was brought to him. Which meant he ate once a day, if that. </p>
<p>The Chiss was so intensely focused on whatever he was studying—definitely a piece of art, Eli knew that look—that he didn't acknowledge Eli at all. The only reasonable response was that Thrawn had in fact noticed him, but given how every ensign had an almost unnatural fear of him, he had chosen to ignore the ensign so they could get on with their job. That was fine. </p>
<p>Eli took care to keep his posture curled in and his head tipped down as he approached, eyes scanning the room for any surveillance devices that didn't already exist. He only saw the one on his left whose viewing angle encompassed the desk and the opposite corner. It was a minor victory.</p>
<p>Thrawn still did not look at him as he stopped before the desk, very tentatively and almost silently depositing the meal tray before him. He scrambled back a step when Thrawn's cutting eyes slid from the presumed artwork to him, expression lined with fury.</p>
<p>Like a frigid gale, his words and their tone made Eli shiver reflexively. In all his years, even on the rare occasions when he was irritated, Eli had never heard him speak with such vehemence. "It is customary to announce one's presence to their superiors when they arrive," He rebuked.</p>
<p>"A-apologies, sir," Eli said, forcing the pitch of his voice higher in an attempt to obscure it from recognition. “It won’t happen again.”</p>
<p>Thrawn eyed him a moment, studying his posture with a glint of amusement, and yet… Eli saw tension in Thrawn’s own stature. Like his mind and body were at odds with each other, instinct and thoughts separated somehow.</p>
<p>A splotch of reddish-brown caught Eli’s eye, staining the cuff of Thrawn’s otherwise pristine white uniform. He blinked, his dark eyes following the stain to Thrawn’s hands. The blood had since dried, but it was his own. He could see the crescent marks of fingernails where they'd broken skin.</p>
<p>Not a disagreement of mind and body, he realized. A disagreement of mind and heart.</p>
<p>And Eli, damn it all, felt compelled to act. Head still bowed, voice pinched and breathy, he gestured to the admiral’s hands. “Sir, can—would you like me to get you a medpack?”</p>
<p>Thrawn’s eyes narrowed. He looked down at his own hands in confusion, and back toward the artwork he’d been contemplating. His face remained expressionless for several thundering beats of Eli’s heart.</p>
<p>“That will be all, ensign,” He said, without looking at him.</p>
<p>Eli squashed the sigh that threatened to pass his lips by reflex. How easy it would be to fall into old patterns. “Yes, sir,” He said instead, snapping to attention. He made an about face, intending to catch a glimpse of the artwork that had captured Thrawn’s attention, but the door hatch opened again. Eli’s eyes flew to the newcomer and he froze.</p>
<p>Thrawn’s lone death trooper escort was standing there, staring directly at him. The trooper’s posture shifted. It was too late to avoid eye contact.</p>
<p>-/</p>
<p>"Start talking."</p>
<p>Vah’nya had a blaster raised and pointed at the space over Vanto's left shoulder before Bridger or Hammerly herself so much as reacted to the newcomer. Chiss reflexes were terrifying, though based on the way Bridger's hand flew out, closing the hatch behind them and pinning the death trooper to it with unseeable force, Hammerly decided not to count the Jedi out of that category, either.</p>
<p>Vanto spun around to regard the trooper as both Vah’nya and Bridger drew closer. He was rubbing his shoulder to diffuse some of the pain from the trooper's too tight grip as he said, "Bridger, let him go. He isn't armed."</p>
<p>"Have you ever fought a death trooper?" Bridger questioned incredulously.</p>
<p>"Not in so many words," Vanto answered, removing the cap from his head and undoing the sealing strips of the tunic from his borrowed uniform. He shrugged out of it as he continued."But he's not going to fight us. Right, Pik?"</p>
<p>The death trooper righted himself as Bridger's hold on him faded, posture defensive. "What in the hell are you doing here?"</p>
<p>Even with the helmet on, it was clear he was talking to Vanto. </p>
<p>"Do you have any idea how stupid that was?" Pik continued. “He would've killed you."</p>
<p>Vanto exhaled. "Not by choice."</p>
<p>"I <em>should</em> kill you," The Death Trooper continued. "And that does not matter," Pik stressed each word, his reedy voice like smoke from a woodfire.</p>
<p>"It does. You know there's something wrong."</p>
<p>"I know," The death trooper pushed back, "That Thrawn is my primary. If he orders me to kill you—"</p>
<p>"You have standing orders regarding me," Vanto pressed.</p>
<p>"That was years ago."</p>
<p>"You still have standing orders," He affirmed. "Thrawn didn't specify a time limit."</p>
<p>"And how do you know that?"</p>
<p>"I just do." Vanto's tone was hard, inflexible. "I'm also willing to bet that his standing orders additionally stated that you were to protect all Chiss officers as you would your primary."</p>
<p>Helmet tilting slightly, posture becoming more rigid, Pik pressed forward, "I—Vanto, you—"</p>
<p>"These three," He gestured to Vah’nya, Bridger, and lastly, to Mina herself, "All serve the Chiss Ascendancy, the same as me."</p>
<p>Bridger squirmed, but Vah’nya kicked him. Mina liked the young woman. Her Basic was coming along (no doubt Bridger was to blame for that), and she was patient with Mina when she attempted to use Cheunh, though she was equally witty. Never patronizing, though. She got the feeling other Chiss weren't that way.</p>
<p>"And I'm willing to bet like that you were ordered to listen to me, you were also ordered to protect my life and my mission as you would defend Thrawn."</p>
<p>"You cannot supersede my primary."</p>
<p>"Your primary is compromised!" Vanto boomed. Hammerly flinched against her will, having never heard him yell like that before. "The way I see it—Hell, the way Ar'alani sees it, and the way Hammerly and Pyrondi see it, I <em>am</em> your primary now."</p>
<p>"Is that true?"</p>
<p>Mina’s eyes widened when she realized Pik was talking to her. "It is," She said, hoping it didn't sound hesitant. That made sense, after all, even if she had just grasped the point herself. It lined up with her personal goals quite nicely. Getting in with the Ascendancy meant a better chance to save their people, and she couldn’t pass that up for anything.</p>
<p>"If you're here for Thrawn, he's not just going to give it up."</p>
<p>"You know there's something wrong with him," Bridger said. He turned his dark blue eyes on the man who shifted, then removed his helmet. His face was scarred and his hair shaved down to a fuzz over his scalp, another tick-mark scar at his temple. "And I think you know, deep down, what he'd want you to do in this situation."</p>
<p>Mina had only ever seen Pik's face twice. She'd never forget either time. She'd seen faces like his, though. Thousands of them. Pik was a Clone, like the rest of Thrawn's Death Trooper guard had been. They had removed his chip at Bridger's insistence, after Lothal, when he had been the only one to survive. After that, he had become fiercely protective of the Jedi, no matter how much he tried to downplay it. </p>
<p>She remembered Thrawn telling her that he hadn't needed to give the order to protect Bridger from their crew, back in those early days. It was instinctive.</p>
<p>"I can't tell you what's going on with him. He's acting like a different person. It was like someone," He tapped his forehead, too regimented to shiver, "Like a switch was flipped."</p>
<p>"We know," Vanto said, and it was more gentle than it had been for the bulk of the conversation. "We're working on figuring out the how and why of the situation so we can stop it. But to do that, we need your help."</p>
<p>Pik held Bridger's gaze for a long moment. The Jedi nodded. Their standoff continued.</p>
<p>There were stories about the Jedi and clones, about how they were so in sync that it was said they could speak with only their minds. Mina had always been told not to listen to such rumors. She had been a mere cadet back when such rumors ran rampant, back in the dying days of the Republic. But now, knowing what she knew, she wondered if those rumors had some merit after all.</p>
<p>"Oh, alright," Pik relented, shoulders settling into something like parade rest. "But if he figures it out, you're all going down with me."</p>
<p>"Obviously," Vah’nya said, finally lowering her blaster. "Do give us a little credit," She said in her accentuated Basic.</p>
<p>-/</p>
<p>Silently, Vah’nya crept from her bunk down to the floor, then to the refresher. She slid open the door, then manually closed it behind her before the ambient light could disturb the other two humans dead asleep in their respective berths. It had been an eventful evening.</p>
<p>"Any reason you're brooding on the latrine, sir?" Her lips curled upward as he cast her an incredulous look. </p>
<p>He huffed as she made herself comfortable on the sink, his knees drawn up to his chest over the covered unit. "You didn't knock," He answered in Cheunh. "And how do you know even that word?</p>
<p>"I know how you are," She reminded him, "You prefer to lick your wounds in private. And I know that word because Bridger taught it to me."</p>
<p>"He's not a bad instructor."</p>
<p>"No, but he is a miserable pupil. I expect that we deserve each other in that regard." </p>
<p>Eli’s lips curled upward, but didn't stay that way for long. Vah’nya watched him, his eyes focused on the door hatch, vision perfectly functional though she doubted he was seeing anything. That was fine. She could be patient. Several moments later, that patience was rewarded.</p>
<p>"This isn’t… He knows there's something wrong, Vah’nya. I’ve been saying that all along to give them hope, but today, I saw it." He shook his head, rattled. She could all but see the pain of his understanding, the frustration and futility from not being able to determine its source.</p>
<p>She tilted her head, considering. Ar’alani had never given her explicit instructions regarding her role on this mission, but she had conceded that Eli’van’to knew Thrawn better than anyone. Vah’nya had been willing to go for Thrawn’s sake, for Ar’alani who couldn’t, and to support Eli’van’to, who was both her friend and her superior, a protector of all those like her. What Ar’alani hadn’t said, but Vah’nya understood, was an old lesson: There are some things only you can do.</p>
<p>“Give me your hands, Eli,” She said gently, reaching toward him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next Time: Thrawn receives his orders. Countermeasures must be enacted.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This time: Thrawn receives his orders. Countermeasures must be enacted.</p><p>Welcome to the most difficult run of chapters I've written in a long, long time. Chapters 10-13 have kicked my ass, but I'm nearly out of the woods and chapter 14 is about a third of the way done. Thanks for sticking with me!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pik moved quickly, cognizant of the urgency the situation required. With him on their side, Lomar found himself inundated with additional work. Between his duties on the bridge, whatever extras the admiral requested, and monitoring Thrawn's newly tapped and traced office comm (courtesy of one absurdly competent Death Trooper), there was no way the man could keep up. And with Vanto working on the ensigns and bolstering their crops of bioengineered foodstuffs when he wasn’t hyperanalyzing Thrawn’s every move, Hammerly had made the executive decision to bring Agrol into the fold.</p><p>They made a point to touch base during the day at least once, even if they didn't see each other face to face. Vanto often brought new datapads back with him from his labor shifts, handing them over to her for sifting through before he settled into sorting their already analyzed data. </p><p>With each passing day, they made slow progress. With each passing night, Hammerly pretended not to hear the quiet murmurings of Cheunh. She didn't need to know all the words for them to convey Vanto's growing concern that there was only so long they could continue down this path without Thrawn discovering them.</p><p>When the first comm came from Sloane, they sat in a circle around the device. Hammerly, Agrol, Lomar, Bridger, Vanto, and Vah’nya. Pik was likely inside Thrawn’s office or just outside, and Pyrondi was on the bridge, lest she draw Thrawn’s suspicion.</p><p>“We have confirmed sightings of the Eleventh Fleet,” Grand Admiral Sloane’s voice held its usual smooth confidence, as if the Empire hadn’t been fractured beyond repair and her feed wasn't hissing and squealing with static. The haughtiness of it made Hammerly shiver. “We have reached out to them on several occasions and instructed to rendezvous with the rest of my forces, but Admiral Faro declined. Shadow Wing is occupied with Syndulla’s forces and I am needed elsewhere. I need you to act on this.”</p><p>“I see,” Thrawn said, then paused to consider. “Am I to convince her to take up our cause?”</p><p>“We are past the point of mercy and surrender. She has made her choice. She will live and die by the consequences of her actions.” Sloane paused, though it was more likely to let the meaning of her words more fully wash over him. “My people have tracked her to the Garka Sector of the Outer Rim. The relevant data has been sent to you. Deliver Imperial justice. Seize whatever resources you can, and wipe them out."</p><p>“Yes, Admiral,” Their own admiral agreed, his voice thick and ominous with foreboding. “Consider it done.”</p><p>“Things are escalating here,” Sloane continued calmly. “A final confrontation is imminent. There is much to be done to prepare for what comes next. Talent and discipline such as yours will be a great boon to the Empire.” There was a lower sound, almost like a chuckle. Hammerly wasn’t sure she’d ever heard Sloane laugh. “Contact me for rendezvous coordinates upon completion of your task. Sloane out.”</p><p>“And there it is,” Lomar said quietly, leaning back from the tapped comm speaker. “As you thought,” He murmured in Vanto’s direction. “Sounds like he’s going to do it, too.”</p><p>Bridger frowned, his arms crossed. “He sounded strange. Distracted.”</p><p>“He barely said anything,” Agrol said. “He seemed like he was standing far away from the comm.”</p><p>“He’s been known to pace,” Hammerly reminded them, taking in the group's expressions of varying concern. “Though more likely he was already making his battle plan.”</p><p>She looked to Vanto who sat cross-legged, his thumb and index fingers curled over his lips. He seemed lost in thought, his left hand poised over his datapad. Then, as if jolted by a live wire, he seemed to focus all at once.</p><p>Lomar exhaled bodily, his shoulder slumping, "No offense, sir, but I hope whatever you’re thinking isn’t as insane as your last idea."</p><p>Vanto grinned before he spoke, his answer loud and clear, just like Lomar's ensuing groan. </p><p>"I think this is a conversation we have to have in person.”</p><p>"You want to talk to Thrawn?" Agrol asked incredulously. “If you were going to do that—”</p><p>"No," Hammerly nodded thoughtfully, following the path of his thoughts. "He wants to talk to Faro."</p><p>Her heart lurched a little, lodged halfway between chest and throat. If that was his plan, she could definitely see the merit in it. But the logical voice in her mind, the one that saw the playing field as a commander taking stock of resources knew that the more people he brought in, the less likely he was to pull this off without Thrawn suspecting anything. </p><p>She waited until Lomar and Agrol cleared out, exchanging a look with Bridger who seemed to get the idea quickly enough. Before a half hour had passed, Vah’nya had been coaxed into Stormtrooper gear and the two were off to check on the flourishing bioeng effort. </p><p>The room itself wasn't very big, and the group of them sitting together had nearly taken up all available floor space. It felt strange to be nearly alone. She had talked to Vanto plenty of times in the last few weeks, but with this situation playing out as it had, Hammerly couldn't afford to follow her current course of action. The time for observation and evaluation was over. Time was running out for all of them.</p><p>"I need to know," She said into the silence, "And I need to know now," She continued, her eyes narrowed on him as he set aside his questis. She hadn't seen that device in a day or two. "What happens to us?"</p><p>Vanto leaned back against the lowest rack, about as relaxed as she’d ever seen, considering the circumstances. She tried not to let that aggravate her. "Let me guess, you want to know if you ought to take your chances with Faro?"</p><p>"I'm responsible for them. My primary objective isn't rescuing Thrawn from something we can't even prove exists."</p><p>“It exists, and you know it,” He pushed, his stance on the subject firm. “I know this is rough—”</p><p>“Vanto,” She took a sharp breath. “Eli, tell me if you’re going to take us with you. When you go.”</p><p>“Is that what you want?” He studied her for too long for her to be comfortable, stoic and still and nearly inhuman. He’d been among the Chiss for less than a decade, but she got the feeling Eli Vanto was pretty well adapted.</p><p>“I know why Thrawn came to the Empire,” Hammerly told him. He had told her years earlier, after Lothal. “I know his people need strong allies.”</p><p>“Thrawn had hoped the Empire would be stronger than the Republic before it. An ally, to fight an enemy they may not be able to defeat on their own. And now, the Empire is in tatters, and the New Republic will fall in fifty years, maybe less.” He waited a moment for his words to sink in before he continued, “I assume you think you can team up with the Chiss to fight the Grysks, hoping you can turn them all back in the direction they’ve come from before their main forces wash up on the New Republic’s doorstep.”</p><p>“Ideally.”</p><p>Still, Vanto’s expression was unimpressed, and it grated on her. </p><p>More assertively, she pressed on. “If we stay, the best case scenario is that we surrender to the New Republic. I imagine they’ll kill me and Thrawn and Pyrondi, maybe even Agrol and Lomar, after they squeeze us for everything we’re worth. And for what? What will they gain?” She crossed her arms. “They won't take the threat of some unknown seriously, they'll just assume it's propaganda. They’re not equipped to fight off the Grysks, much less defend the territory they managed to take back, and they’ll be lucky to last twenty years, not fifty. The majority of them are freedom fighters, not politicians or governors. They don’t know how to run a government, much less a military with peacetime law and order.”</p><p>Vanto nodded. “So you’d rather take your chances with the Chiss,” He mused aloud. “But what if they’re no better off? Grysks on one side, and at war amongst each other.”</p><p>“Well, considering that Thrawn’s their idea of radical, I think they have a better chance at cobbling things together, war or not. Their military is separate from their governing council, Thrawn told us that already.”</p><p>“It is,” He agreed, seeming pleased with her knowledge on the subject. The concept of this as a test did not make her feel great, but she had a feeling he was getting to the point. “We could use more officers and warriors who don’t fight along family lines, who represent the greater good.”</p><p>
“Like the Seventh Fleet.”</p><p>Another nod. “And like the Eleventh,” He added.</p><p>It clicked, suddenly. Mina was struck by the urge to take him by the shoulders and shake him. “You’re here to finish his mission,” She accused, “Aren’t you?”</p><p>“Technically I’m here to scout things out. Unofficially, though,” He smiled, his eyebrows arching with the incoming insinuation. “Thrawn made me the officer I am. So I am going to go to Faro, and together, we are going to make a plan to get all of you the hell out of dodge.” He raised an eyebrow. “Assuming, of course, that’s agreeable to you.”</p><p>Hammerly exhaled. "You could have just told me."</p><p>"I was hoping you had already figured it out,” He admitted, shrugging.</p><p>How different he had become, she thought, a little sad for the kinder, sweeter man lost to necessity. Though, all things considered, he certainly wasn’t the only one who had been forced to change.</p><p>-/</p><p>Lieutenant Commander Uhkla’s brow furrowed as the tiny blip of a ship came into view on the display. Being the <em>Perserverance's </em>comms officer meant he'd be the one hailing the vessel to get its intentions, so he flicked his gaze from the tactical and prepared for his Admiral's orders. </p><p>"That's a lambda, ma'am. Old model, not retrofitted," The first officer said behind him, indicating the lack of any potentially threatening weapon systems. "Scans don't indicate anything out of the ordinary. Do you think it's another scout?"</p><p>From the command walkway, dressed in a uniform of pristine, crisp white, Admiral Karyn Faro assessed the tiny ship that had emerged from hyperspace thirty degrees off the portside bow. "I doubt it," She said. The last four scouts they had detected were all TIE series, and all did their damndest to stay out of sight and sensor range.</p><p>"They're hailing us," Uhkla said from his console.</p><p>Faro turned back toward the crew pits. To her weapons officer, she added, "Ready turbolasers and have the tractor operator ready to act."</p><p>"Yes, ma'am," Came the confirmation no more than a second later. "Turbolasers and tractor beam standing by.</p><p>"Excellent." She inclined her head to her comms officer, "Put them through."</p><p>The bridge speakers crackled for a moment, then cleared. The speaker was female, her voice steady and calm. Each word was carefully enunciated. </p><p>"This is Commander Mina Hammerly, formerly of the Seventh Fleet, for Admiral Karyn Faro of the Eleventh. I come with an urgent warning. I say again—" The message repeated.</p><p>Uhkla looked up at his admiral. Karyn Faro was a hard woman, stern and ornery and intelligent. Very, very intelligent. If one was lucky enough to be brought into her confidence, there was much to be learned from her experiences. And despite her baseline of seeming strict and unwilling to hear the opinions of her crew, she was exactly that.</p><p>It was something she had gotten from her mentor.</p><p>And that, <em>that</em> gave Uhkla pause. "Ma'am, isn't the Seventh—"</p><p>Faro nodded sharply. "Contact Troop Commander Alfso and the hangarmaster. I want a full complement of stormtroopers waiting for that shuttle. "Commander Rodas, you're with me. Uhkla, transmit my acknowledgement and order them to power down. We'll have tractors tow them in."</p><p>"Standard protocol?"</p><p>Another nod. "Please."</p><p>Uhkla tapped a blinking red button on his console and he was live. "Acknowledged. Power down all systems and await further instructions."</p><p>"Understood," Came the reply. "Switching to critical systems only."</p><p>They disconnected and Uhkla tapped his board once to similarly drop the open connection, then began another sequence to notify all other ships, effectively blocking all further communications. </p><p>Uhkla had been a new lieutenant when Admiral Faro, also newly promoted, had been assigned to the ISD <em>Perseverance</em>. Over the years, he had come to respect and admire his admiral, but also to trust her hunches.  </p><p>Anything that put that expression onto her face, the one that made her lips thin and her eyes narrow in grim speculation, was trouble on the horizon. </p><p>-/</p><p>The hatch opened with a sharp hiss-click.</p><p>“You asked for me,” Thrawn’s lone guard, the Death Trooper called Pik, said. </p><p>Behind him, the door closed just as rapidly and the silence of the room grew more pronounced. Still, the warrior who had addressed her was patient.</p><p>Vahn'nya closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She held it, counting it out in her head, and released it. Then, she repeated the process again six more times until she could feel her heart and mind settle. </p><p>“I did.” She rose from her bunk and approached, studying him through his helmet. He met her eyes, she could feel the weight of his gaze, dark and intelligent behind the severe mantle that concealed his face.</p><p>This was probably not what Admiral Ar'alani had in mind when she had asked her if she was willing to do what was necessary. She would have argued that the inherent risks were too great, the timing ill-suited and desperate, ripe for missteps and poor judgement calls. She probably wouldn’t be wrong, either. It certainly wasn’t a task Eli was happy about leaving her to handle without him nearby, either, but he’d given her the order and was willing to stick his neck under the blade and face whatever consequences came.</p><p>Vah’nya would likewise have to deal with fallout of her own. She had been talking to Bridger a lot these last few weeks, and a lot of what they had discussed between sampling whatever music he could find for her had been the Force. Bridger believed that the Force never left someone and that she had used the Force to navigate ships for almost twenty years; That her sisters used it still, every time they called upon Third Sight.</p><p>Naturally she had told him he was wrong. Sight, the Force, whatever he wanted to call it, whether it was the same thing or not, was a finite thing. After all, she had watched children lose their ability to use Third Sight within a handful of years, sometimes even before they could master it. Vah’nya herself had lost it. She remembered how inconsolable she had been when she realized she hadn't been able to stay on course that final time.</p><p>She had begged Ar'alani to allow her another try in a smaller craft, to see if it was really true. She had been denied, and Ar'alani had promised her that it was not the end, and Ar'alani had never lied to her. Without the use of Third Sight, she had been forced to grow her other senses. She had never lied to Bridger, she just hadn't been telling the whole truth. </p><p>“You know what I am, yes?”</p><p>“Yes, Navigator.”</p><p>She stepped back and began the slow, methodical process of pinning her hair into a low knot at the base of her skull. They needed to make progress. And that meant that every one of them had a job to do.</p><p>The fact remained that the probability of Thrawn killing a Chiss was significantly lower than that of any other infiltrators he might discover in his midst. </p><p>“I need to do something dangerous,” She told him, her heart rate rising with anticipation. “And I need someone to watch over me when I do.”</p><p>Pik made a small sound, contemplative and disgruntled all at once. “You want me to take you to the admiral,” He said, “Don’t you?”</p><p>Vah’nya nodded. “That is part of it,” She said. “I also need your assistance with something far worse.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next Time: Pyrondi aspires to be the commander her people need. Faro greets old friends and old enemies. Thrawn is faced with an impossibility.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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